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Thomas  Babington  Macaulayl 
The  Rhetorician 


An  Examination  of  His  Structural  Devices 
in  the  History  of  England 

by 

DAVID  ARTHUR  HUGHES 

Litt.M.,  Ph.D..  D.V.M. 


''All  the  Artifices  of  Rhetoric." 

— Macaulay.  Hiii^.a£-^4^NG..  Book  II.  P.  11!).  L,  21-22' 

*^  Of  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


-ef- 


£4UFOR|ii> 


A  thesis  presented  to  the  University  Faculty  of  Cornell  University 

for  the  Degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  when  it  was 

conferred  upon  the  writer,  June  16,  1898, 


Inscription. 

To  James  Morgan  Hart,  M.  A..  J.  U.  D., 

LiTT.  D. 

Eminent  as  a  luriter,  philologist  and  rhetorician, 
whose  book  on  ''The  Germaii  Universities'"  caused 
flocks  of  American  Students  to  migrate  to  Europe 
to  receive  the  fruits  of  German  scholarship  ;  whose 
works  on  English  Philology  have  extended  his  fame 
amongst  linguists  with  his  ripening  years ;  and 
who,  in  his  text  books,  surpasses  his  celebrated 
father  as  a  rhetorician. 

To  George  Lincoln  Burr,  B.  A.,  LL.  D., 

LiTT.  D. 

Bibliographer,  archivist,  medicevalist,  whose  ivork  as 
a  collector  has  greatly  enriched  the  historical 
libraries  of  Cornell  University ;  ivhose  labours  in 
the  Dutch  archives  in  the  Hague,  during  the 
administratioft  of  President  Cleveland,  ivere  the 
means  of  averting  war  with  England  in  the  I'ene- 
zeula  boundary  difficulty  ;  whose  knowledge  of  the 
Middle  Ages  and  gifts  as  a  lecturer  and  critic  have 
justly  entitled  him  to  fame  in  that  specialty. 

To  Henry  Morse  Stephens,  M.  A. 
First  Honourman  o"  the  Modern  History  School  of 
Oxford  University,  the  historian  of  the  French 
Revolution  and  of  the  British  Empire,  the  volumi- 
nous writer  and  brilliant  and  versatile  lecturer — 
who  neither  writes  nor  speaks  on  any  subject  that 
he  does  not  iridescently  illuminate  and  adorn. 

All  Three 

Of  whotn  were  my  examiners  for  the  Doctor'' s  degree 
in  Philosophy, 

This  Thesis  is  Inscribed. 


2i09G4 


iaNVHoxj 


SYNOPSIS  OF  CHAPTERS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

1.  General  statement  of  the  Plan  of  this  Thesis..  1 

2.  Macaulay's  theory  of  historical  writing 2 

3.  Macaulay's  Introduction  to  his  History 3 

(a).     The  plan  marked  out  in  his  Introduction..  3 
(b).     The  extent  to  which  the  plan  set  forth  in 

the  Introduction  is  carried  out 4 


PART  I.— PARAGRAPHING. 

Section  A. — Invention. 

Chapter  1. — Paragraph  Grouping. 

1.  Wave  movement  of  paragraphs 9 

2.  The  shortening  and  lengthening  of  para- 
graphs    17 

3.  Reasons  for  Macaulay's  variations  from  his 
usual  manner  of  grouping.  Detailed  explana- 
tions for  groups  of  short,  medium  and  long 
paragraphs,  with  numerous  references  to  the 
History 19 

Chapter  2. — The  Indhndual  Paragraph . 

1.  Kinds  of  paragraphs  used  by  Macaulay 24 

2.  Unity  25 

3.  Sequence 26 

4.  Connectives 28 

5.  Variations  of  unity 33 

6.  The  link  paragraph 34 

7.  Paragraph  echo 37 


8.  Beginnings  and  endings  of  paragraphs 41 

9.  The  subject  sentence 45 

10.  Repeated    structure.... 48 

11.  Selection,  Propoition,  Variety 50 

Chapter  3. — Narration. 

1.  Macaulay's  manner  in  general 57 

2.  Condensed  Narrative  and  amplified  narra- 
tive      60 

3  Movement  of  paragraphs  in  narration 64 

4.  Reverting  narrative 65 

5.  Overlapping  narration 66 

6.  Digression  67 

7.  Episode  68 

8.  Intercalated  narration 69 

9.  Mixed  narration  and  description 70 

10.  Mixed  exposit  on  and  narration 71 

Chapter  4. — Description. 

1.  Macaulay's  manner 73 

2.  Macaulay's  fondness  for  description 76 

3.  Observations  on  the  character  of  Macaulay's 
description 77 

4.  Character-description,  frequency,  where  it 
occurs,  and  why    80 

5.  Place  and  scene  description  ;  noticeable  fea- 
tures     84 

6.  Length  of  description.  Macaulay's  ability 
to  adapt  himself  to  description  of  any  length, 
from  a  few  sentences  (vignettes),  to  long, 
elaborate  description 90 

7.  Use  made  by  Macaulay  of  description  sup- 
ported by  narration.     Analysis  of  examples 98 

8.  Diagram.      Point  of  reference 100 

9.  Shifting  the  point  of  view.  Use  of  narration 
for  suspense 102 


10.  introducing  the  personal  element.     This  is  a 
common  device  of  Macaulay's  104 

11.  Sketch.     Suggestion 106 

12.  Generalized  description 108 

Chapter  5. — Exposition. 

1.  General  remarks  on  Macaulay  as  an  exposi- 
tor   Ill 

2.  Macaulay's  manner 114 

3.  The  places  where  Macaulay  is  apt  to  intro- 
duce his  exposition 120 

4.  His  ability  to  formulate  the  opinions  of  fac- 
tions, or  to  summarize  documents,  in  brilliant 
general  statement 123 

5.  Exposition  leading  to  argument  „,..y...y...^....^^l29 

6.  Expository  description 131 

7.  Macaulay's  manner  of  formulating  general- 
law,  idea  and  relation \^ 

8.  Macaulay's  faults  as  an  expositor.  His 
overstatement  and  understatement 140 


Section  B. — Expression. 
Chapter  6. — General  Qualities  of  Ejipression . 
(a)     Clearness. 

1.  Macaulay's  choice  of  language 141 

2.  Macaulay's  painstaking 144 

3.  His  directness.     The  simplicity  and  short- 
ness of  his  sentences,  hence  his  perspicuity  ...146 

(bl     Force. 

1.     Device  for  carrying  the  reader  on,  and  rais- 
ing him  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement 148 

A.  The  various  forms  of  climax  and  anti- 
climax  148 

B.  Oratorical   eulogy 151 


2.  Device  for  holding  thie  reader's  interest  by 
means  of  variety 156 

A.  Balance  in  sentence 157 

B.  Balance  of  parts  of  paragraphs 162 

C.  Balance  in  successive  paragraphs 163 

D.  Counterbalance  and  contrast 163 

3.  Device   for    quickening    the   mind    of    the 
reader  to  astonishment 164 

A.  Plausible  stattment  of  assured  results 
or  conclusions,  ending  in  statement  of 
real  result     164 

B.  By  timely  statement  of  picturesque  in- 
cident, story  or  quotation 166 

C.  Allusion  and  suspense 167 

D.  Suspension  of  the  leading  thought  of 

a  paragraph  until  the  end  170 

E.  By  brilliant  antithesis      .  171 

(c)     Both  clearness  and  force  by  means  of  repeti- 
tion. 

1.  Repetition  of  some  word 175 

2.  Repetition  of  favorite  phrases 175 

3.  Repetition    of    noun,    adjective,    pronoun, 
verb,  adverb,  conjunction,  preposition 176 

Chapter  7. — Figurative  Expression. 

1.  General  remarks  on  Macaulay's  use  of  figures.. 180 

2.  Hyperbole  and  exaggeration 182 

3.  Comparison  and  contrast 185 

4.  Antithesis 190 

5.  Epigram 191 

6.  Analogy 193 

7.  Other  figures 196 


PART  II.— SENTENCE  STRUCTURE. 

Chapter  S. — Classes  and  Form  of  Macaiilay's 
Sentences. 
(a)     Preliminary    discussion    of   certain    modern 
theories  of  the  sentence 

1.  L.  A.  Sherman's  Theory 203 

2.  A.  S.  Hill's  View 206 

3.  The  present  writer's  view.  Sentence  struc- 
ture due :  first  to  the  character  of  the 
thought;  second  to  habit.  Query:  First, 
What  are  the  surroundings  of  a  sentence  ?  sec- 
ond, Is  the  style  formal  or  informal,  conversa- 
tional and  familiar  ? 207 

(bj     The  classe-  of  sentence  found  in  the  History. 

1.  Sentences  embodying  either  a  condition, 
restriction,  or  thought  parallel  with  the  main 
thought 209 

A.  Places  where  such  sentences  are  to  be 
found.     Explanation 209 

B.  A  study  of  this  class  of  sentences  in 
Macaulay's  exposition.     Examination  of 

a  representative  group 210 

C.  The  two  forms  of  description  in  which 
this  kind  of  sentence  occurs.  Explana- 
tion  212 

D.  The  particular  narrative  form  in  which 
it  is  found,  and  why.  One  representative 
passage  studied 213 

2.  Sentences  without  condition  or  restriction. .213 

A.  Macaulay's  fondness  for  this  class  of 
sentences 213 

B.  His  use  of  such  sentences  singly  or  in 
small  groups.     The  reason  for  this 214 


C.     His  use  of  them  in  rapid  succession  or 
in  large  groups.. 215 

1.  In  the  description  of  extensive 
operations  and  of  attendant  circum- 
stances. Study  of  representative 
passages 215 

2.  In  narration  following  the  order  of 
time.  Study  of  one  representative 
passage 217 

(c)     The  forms  of  sentences  in  Macaulay. 

1.  Prelimintary  remarks.  Macaulay's  style 
dignified  and  studied.  Hence  his  choice  of 
sentences  to  that  end 219 

2.  The  forms  of  sentences  used  by  Macaulay  : 
the  short  sentence  ;  the  balanced  sentence  ; 
the  periodic 219 

3.  The  differences  in  his  use  of  these  sentences 
in  narrative,  description  and  expository  writ- 
ing  219 

4.  The  use  of  short,  periodic  and  balanced 
sentences  in  narration  220 

(a)  In  narration  where  the  order  is  that  of 
cause  and  effect 220 

(b)  In  narration  where  the  order  is  that  of 
time   221 

5.  The  use  of  short,  periodic  and  balanced 
sentences  in  descripnon  .  221 

(a)  In  place-description 221 

(b)  In  general  character  description 221 

(c)  In  description  of  operations 222 

(d)  In  description  of  circumstances 222 

6.  The  use  of  periodic  and  balanced  sentences 

in  exposition 222 

A.  In  a  single  paragraph.. 222 

B.  In  groups  of  two  paragraphs 223 


C.  In  groups  of  three  paragraphs  224 

D.  In  large  groups.     Reason  for  the  ab- 
sence of  short  sentences  in  exposition 224 

7.     Variety   in  the  use   of   these  forms  of  sen- 

99  c 
fences ^^-^ 

A.  Why  balanced  sentences  are  used 225 

(a)  Halves    or  parts  of    sentences    in 
balance 225 

(b)  Successive  sentences  in  balance  .226 

(c)  The  sentence  containing  a  balance 
and  a  periodic  ending    227 

B.  Use  of  periodic  sentences  toward  the 
paragraph's  end .228 

C.  The  use  of  short  sentences 230 

(a)  Oracularly,  i.  e.,  for  point 230 

(b)  For  movement 231 

8.     Concluding  observations -  231 

A.  The  sentence  forms  favored  by  Macau- 
lay  demand,  from  their  very  nature,  spe- 
cial care  in  order  to  insure  correctness 
and  neatness 231 

B.  Macaulay's  carefulness  proven 231 

(a)  Objectively,  from  the  testimony  of 
Trevelyan 231 

(b)  From  the  internal  evidence  of  the 
sentences   themselves 233 

C.  Macaulay's  cerrectness 233 

(a)  In  the  syntax  itself 233 

(b)  In  the  relative  places  assigned  to 
the  clauses  and  phrases  embodying 
the  leading  thought  and  the  subor- 
dinate  thoughts 234 

Chapter  9. — Properties  of  the  Sentence  in 

'  Macaiilav . 
(a)     Unity. 

1.     Macaulay's  painstaking 235 


2.  Occasional  lack  of  strict  unity  in  punctua- 
tion     235 

3.  Lack  of  unity  in  adjusting  sentences  to  the 
paragraph,  —  stringing  together  sentences 
without  connection - 237 

(b)  Clearness. 

1.  Care  in  the  use  of  modifiers 237 

2.  Care  in  the  use  of  personal  pronouns 238 

3.  Care  in  the  use  of  the  neuter  (it)  and  rela- 
tivepronouns  238 

4.  Care  in  the  use  of  demonstrative  pronouns  .239 

5.  Repetition  of  personal  pronouns,  adjec- 
tives, verbs  and  nouns 239 

6.  Use  of  and 240 

7.  Nice  use  of  adverbs 240 

8.  Avoidance  of  very  long  sentences 240 

9.  Use  of  for  at  the  beginning, — explanation  ..  241 

10.  The  leading  thought  of  paragraph  stated  in 

a  simple  sentence  . 242 

11.  Luminousness  and  clearness  due  to  avoid- 
ance of  loose  sentences  and  preference  for 
formal  sentences 242 

(c)  Force. 

1.     In  the  sentence    .  243 

A.  Aviodance  of  loose  sentences 243 

B.  Apt  use  of  interrogative  sentences 243 

C.  U^e  of  short  sentences 244 

1.  For  bold,  direct  statement.  .     244 

2.  To  mark  the  half-way  point  of  para- 
graph    244 

3.  To  end  a  climax  and  turn  to  a  fresh 
subject 245 

D.  Periodic  sentences 245 

I.     The  stress   coming  at   the  end   in  a 

single  word  or  thought 245 


XII 


2.     The    stress   coming  on  the  climactic 
word  of  a  series 246 

E.  Balanced  sentences 247 

1.  Stress    in    the    second    part    of    the 
balance 247 

2.  Stress  on  the   first   part  of   the  bal- 
ance   247 

F.  Chiasmus 247 

The  place  of  the  subject  sentence 248 

A.  At  the  beginning  248 

B.  At  the  end 248 

C.  Cogent  statements  of  the  topic  at  the 
beginning  of  a  paragraph,  with  repeti- 
tion at  the  end  in  different  language 249 

D.  At  the  beginning,  middle  and  end  of  a 
paragraph 249 

In  the  adjustment  of  sentences  to  the  para- 
graph   250 

A.  Climax  within  the  paragraph  leading  to 
final  climax  at  the  end  of  the  paragraph. .250 

B.  The  rise  into  periodic  sentences  of  in- 
creasing length  in  forcible  expression  of 
opinion 251 

C.  Emphatic  word 251 

1.  At  the  beginning  of  a  paragraph. ...251 

2.  At  the  end  of  a  paragraph 252 

D.  Adjusting  the  sentence  structure  to 
energetic  expression 253 

1.  Partition  of  paragraph  into  sec- 
tions, each  section  dealing  with  part 
of  the  general  theme,  and  having  the 
same  or  nearl}'  the  same  number  of 
sentences  .- 254 

2.  Repetition  of  the  leading  thought 

of  a  section  at  the  beginning  and  end  254 

xui 


3.     Grouping  of   sentences  to  form  a 

climax 255 

E.     Brevity,  spacing,  economy  of  words. .256 
(d)     Harmony. 

1.  Macaulay's  taste  for  harmonious  flow  of 
language  :  his  poetry,  his  expressions  in  his 
essays 257 

2.  The  absence  of  barbarisms  and  neologisms 
from  his  language 258 

3.  Alliteration 259 

4.  Pairing  words  of  similar  sound 259 

5.  Adapting  sound  to  sense 260 

Conclusion  of  this  Thesis 261 


Of   THE 


UNIVERSITY 

of 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS 


1.  General  Statement  of  the  Plan  of  This 
Thesis. 
J  propose  to  make  as  thorough  a  stiuly  as 
I)ossible  of  Macaulay's  artifices  in  paragraph- 
ing and  sentence-structure,  in  so  far  as  they  are 
noticeable  in  the  History  of  England.  Among 
his  brilliant  accomplishments  none  was  more 
conspicuous  than  his  mastery  of  style.  Un- 
doubtedly it  was  the  enchantment  of  his  style 
which  won  him  the  ear  and  the  heart  of  Eng- 
lish-speaking people.  Xo  other  of  his  writings 
spread  his  fame  as  widely  as  did  the  History 
of  England,  and  on  no  other  did  he  spend  as 
much  pains  in  perfecting  the  rhetorical  form.* 
Consequently  we  may  expecc  to  find  him.  in 
this,  his  most  carefully  written  work,  full  of 
the  artifices  of  a  skilled  writer  who  studied  his 
form  as  much,  if  not  more,  than  his  subject. f 
An  examination  of  these  artifices,  then,  is  the 
()resent  writer's  aim. 

*See  Trevelyan,  Life  and  Letters  of  M.  Vol.   II. 

tOf  course  I  am  not  concerned  with  Macaulay's 
subject-matter.  His  Whiggism  may  or  may  not  be 
7-ampant :  that  is  a  point  which  does  not  enter  Into  an 
Examination  of  the  form  of  the  History. 


2.     Macanlay's  Theory  of  Historical  Writing. 
.  To  make   this   examination   worthily,    even 

/tX''^^  *  respectably,  a  scholar  should  have  a  lively 
InroWlecrge  of  Lord  Macaulay's  "imaginary 
model,"  for  the  great  writer  must  have  en- 
deavored, to  the  extent  of  his  abilities,  to  con- 
form to  his  ideal  of  perfection.  "History,"  he 
says,  in  the  Introduction  to  his  Essay  on  Plal- 
1am,  "history,  at  least  in  its  state  of  imaginary 
perfection,  is  a  compound  of  poetry  and  philos- 
ophy. It  impresses  great  truths  on  the  mind 
by  a  vivid  representation  of  particular  char- 
acters and  incidents."  Again,  in  his  Essay  on 
History,  "The  perfect  historian  is  he  in  whose 
work  the  character  and  spirit  of  an  age  is  ex- 
hibited in  miniature.  He  relates  no  fact,  he 
attributes  no  expression  to  his  characters, 
which  is  not  authenticated  by  sufficient  testi- 
mony. But  by  judicious  selection,  rejection 
and  arrangement  he  gives  to  truth  those  at- 
tractions which  have  been  usurped  by  fiction. 
.  .  .  We  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that 
a  great  artist  might  produce  a  portrait  of  this 
remarkable  woman  (Elizabeth)  at  least  as 
striking  as  that  in  the  novel  Kenilworth 
without  employing  a  single  trait  not  authenti- 
cated by  ample  testimony." 

The  key  word  of  these  opinions  is  the  word 
l'"iction.    The  major  portion  of  the  most  cele- 


l)i-cite(l  wnrks  of  lictioii  is  the  truth  of  liunian 
nature  irrespective  of  the  facts  of  history. 
Macaulay  would  make  his  History  all  truth 
and  all  fact.  He  would  embelljsh  it  with  all 
the  charms  of  the  novel:  lively  narration, 
glowing  description,  that  element  of  the  dra- 
matic,— the  sayings  of  the  characters,  and  ex- 
|)Osition.  In  other  words,  he  would  exercise 
the  same  care  in  arrangement,  in  structure,  as 
in  selection  of  subject-matter;  in  the  one  the 
perfect  historian  should  be  an  artist ;  in  the 
other  the  faithful  relater  of  fact.  Every  state- 
ment should  Ije  a  fact :  there  should  be  "images 
in  e\-ery  line."  Historical  truth  should  be 
dressed  in  the  garb  of  the  ^Modern  Novel. 

For  twenty  years  this  theory  lay  fallow  in 
his  brain  until  it  bore  abundant  fruit  in  the 
])ublication  of  his  History  of  England. 

3.  Macaitlay's  introduction  to  His  History. 

(a)  The  plan  marked  out  in  his  introduc- 
tion. 

The  year  1849  was  made  illustrious  in  the 
roll  of  English  letters  by  the  appearance  of 
"The  History  of  England  from  the  Accession 
of  James  II."'  In  the  opening  sentence,  with 
his  usual  |)crs])icuity.  the  author  announces  his 
plan.  "T  purpose  to  write  the  History  of  Eng- 
land from  the  accession  of  James  II  down  to 
a  time  which  is  within  the  memory  of  men 

3 


still  living."  After  laying  down  the  details  of 
his  plan,  he  continues:  "I  should  very  imper- 
fectly execute  the  task  which  I  have  undertaken 
if  I  were  merely  to  treat  of  battles  and  sieges, 
of  the  rise  and  fall  of  administrations,  of  in- 
trigues m  the  palace,  and  of  debates  in  the  par- 
liament. It  will  be  my  endeavor  to  relate  the 
history  of  the  people  as  well  as  the  history  of 
the  government ;  to  trace  the  progress  of  the 
useful  and  ornamental  arts,  to  describe  the 
rise  of  religious  sects  and  the  changes  of  lit- 
erary taste,  to  portray  the  manners  of  suc- 
cessive generations,  and  not  to  pass  by  with 
neglect  even  the  revolutions  which  have  taken 
place  in  dress,  furniture,  repasts  and  public 
amusements.  I  shall  cheerfully  bear  the  re- 
proach of  having  descended  below  the  dignity 
of  history,  if  I  can  succeed  in  placing  before 
the  English  of  the  nineteenth  century  a  true 
picture  of  the  life  of  our  ancestors." 

"A  true  picture  of  the  life  of  our  ancestors" ; 
Macaulay  has  not,  then,  abandoned  his  theory. 
He  proposed  to  treat  pictorially  the  history  of 
the  people  and  the  history  of  the  government 
from  James  II  to  George  W. 

(b)    The  extent  to  which  the  plan  set  forth 
in  the  Introduction  is  carried  out. 

The  author's  purpose  was  not  accomplished. 
The  five  volumes  published  are  a  torso  of  the 


original  ])laii — magnificent,  indeed,  Imt  never- 
theless a  torso.  Air.  J.  Cotter  Morison  has 
given  the  explanation  of  the  failure.*  He 
says:  "It  is  perhaps  a  low-minded  objection 
to  Alacaulay's  conception  of  history  to  remark 
that  its  application  to  lengthy  periods  is  a 
physical  impossibility.  The  five  volumes  we 
have  of  his  History  comprise  the  space  of 
some  fifteen  years.  It  was  his  original  scheme 
to  bring  his  narration  down  to  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  George  IV;  in  round  numbers,  a 
period  of  a  century  and  a  half.  If,  therefore, 
his  plan  had  been  carried  out  on  its  present 
scale,  it  would  have  needed  fifty  volumes,  if 
not  more,  as  it  is  highly  improbable  that  more 
recent  events  would  have  permitted  greater 
compression.  But,  further,  he  wrote,  at  an 
average,  a  volume  in  three  years ;  therefore  his 
whole  task  would  have  taken  him  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  to  accomplish, — that  is  to  say, 
it  would  have  taken  as  long  to  record  the 
events  as  the  events  took  to  happen.  This  is 
almost  a  practical  refutation  of  the  method  he 
adopted.  And  yet  such  an  absurd  result  could 
not,  on  his  principles,  be  avoided.  If  history 
is  to  be  written  in  such  minute  detail"  that  it 
shall  rival  the  novel  in  unbroken  sustention  of 
the   personal   interest    attaching  to  the   char-  / 

*Macaulay,   Eng.  Men  of  Letters  Series,  P.   141. 
5 


acters,  unexampled  bulk  must  ensue.  Ma- 
caulay  had  no  intention  of  being  so  prolix. 
He  expected  to  achieve  the  first  portion  of  his 
plan  (down  to  the  commencement  of  Wal- 
pole's  administration),  a  matter  of  thirty-five 
years,  in  five  volumes ;  and,  as  it  turned  out, 
five  volumes  only  carried  him  over  fifteen 
years.  But  he  could  not  afiford  to  reduce  his 
scale,  thus  sacrificing  his  conception  of  how 
history  should  be  written." 

Fail  Macaulay  undoubtedly  did  in  the  abil- 
ity to  cover  the  period  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years.  But  what  of  the  fifteen  years 
actually  covered?  His  impartiality  has  been 
called  in  question ;  but  the  dignity,  the  pictorial 
quality  of  his  style  has  never  been  disputed. 
In  1849,  while  the  voice  of  Croker  alone  was 
raised  against  him,  the  English  ladies  were 
reading  the  History  at  their  country  houses 
and  at  the  seaside  instead  of  their  novels. 
Macaulay  held  his  readers  by  his  sustained 
eloquence,  by  vivid  representation  of  partic- 
ular characters  and  incidents,  by  the  attrac- 
tions which  had  been  long  usurped  by  drama 
and  fiction :  in  short,  by  all  the  artifices  of 
rhetoric.  It  is  of  these  artifices  that  I  wish  to 
speak  in  the  following  pages : 


PART  I 

PARAGRAPHING 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 


SECTION  A— INVENTION 


CHAPTER  I 

PARAGRAPH  GROUPING 


1.      IVavc-iuorcmciJt  of  Panu/raf^hs. 

(a)  The  term  \vave-m(_)vcnient  of  the  para- 
s^raplis  shouhl  explain  itself.  To  guard 
ai:^ainst  any  misapprehension,  however,  I 
will  say  that  by  wave-movement  I  mean 
the  variation  of  length  of  the  paragraphs 
in  a  particular  series  dealing  with  one  sub- 
ject. In  this  and  subsequent  pages  I  use 
the  terms  short,  medium  and  long  para- 
graphs. By  short  paragraph  I  mean  one 
of  from  two  to  eight  lines  of  the  octavo 
page ;  by  medium,  nine  to  twenty  lines ; 
by  long,  anything  over  twenty  lines. 
(1) )  In  general  the  wave-movement  of  para- 
graphs throughout  JMacaulay's  History  is 
as  follows :  The  series  begins  with  a  short 
pragraph,  which  is  followed  by  a  medium 
paragraph,  this  in  turn  by  a  long  para- 
graph.    The  number  and  size  of  the  long 

Q 


paragraphs  in  any  series  vary  with  the 
subject  of  the  series  and  the  amount  of 
material  on  that  subject.  A  group  may 
consist  of  either  three  or  more  than  three 
paragraphs.  If  the  group  consists  of  only 
three  paragraphs,  they  are  as  a  rule  ar- 
ranged in  the  order  above  stated.  If  the 
group  consists  of  more  than  three  para- 
graphs, then  usually,  after  the  second,  or 
medium  paragraph,  the  paragraphs  grow 
longer  and  longer  until  we  come  to  a  very 
climactic  paragraph,  after  which  the  series 
is  closed  by  another  medium  paragraph. 
"  In  other  words,  the  movement  of  the  para- 
graphs is  such  as,  by  the  use  of  longer 
and  longer  paragraphs  to  carry  the  mind 
of  the  reader  onward  towards  a  single 
paragraph, — three-quarters  of  a  page  to 
two  and  a  half  pages  long, — in  which  is 
massed  the  bulk  of  the  details  of  some 
event,  situation  or  party  opinion. 

Thus : 

"The  discomfiture  of  the  Whigs  was  com- 
pleted by  a  communication  from  the  King. 
Caermarthen  appeared  in  the  House  of  Lords 
bearing  in  his  hand  a  parchment  signed  by 
William.  It  was  an  Act  of  Grace  for  political 
offences. 

"Between  an  Act  of  Grace  originating  with 


10 


Ihe  Sovereign  and  an  Act  of  Indemnity  origi- 
nating witli  the  Estates  of  the  Reahii  there 
are  some  remari^able  distinctions.  An  Act  of 
Indemnity  passes  through  all  the  stages 
through  which  other  laws  pass,  and  may,  dur- 
ing its  progress,  be  amended  by  either  House. 
An  Act  of  Grace  is  received  with  peculiar 
marks  of  respect,  is  read  only  once  by  the 
Lords  and  once  by  the  Commons,  and  must  be 
either  rejected  altogether  or  accepted  as  it 
stands.  William  had  not  ventured  to  submit 
such  an  Act  to  the  preceding  Parliament.  But 
in  the  new  Parliament  he  was  certain  of  a  ma- 
jority. The  minority  gave  no  trouble.  The 
stubborn  spirit  which  had,  during  two  sessions, 
obstructed  the  progress  of  the  Bill  of  Indem- 
nity had  been  at  length  broken  by  defeats  and 
humiliations.  Both  Houses  stood  up  uncov- 
ered while  the  Act  of  Grace  was  read,  and 
gave  their  sanction  to  it  without  one  dissen- 
tient voice. 

"There  would  not  have  been  this  unanimity 
harl  not  a  few  great  criminals  been  excluded 
from  the  benefits  of  the  amnesty.  Foremost 
among  them  stood  the  surviving  members  of 
the  High  Court  of  Justice  which  had  sate  on 
Charles  the  First.  With  these  ancient  men 
were  joined  the  two  nameless  executioners 
who  had  done  their  office,  with  masked  faces, 


11 


on  the  scaffold  before  the  Banqueting  House. 
None  knew  who  tliey  were,  or  of  what  rank. 
It  was  probable  that  they  had  been  long  dead. 
Yet  it  was  thought  necessary  to  declare  that, 
if  even  now,  after  the  lapse  of  forty-one  years, 
they  should  be  discovered,  they  would  still  be 
liable  to  the  punishment  of  their  great  crime. 
Perhaps  it  would  hardly  have  been  thought 
necessary  to  mention  these  men,  if  the  animos- 
ities of  the  preceding  generation  had  not  been 
rekindled  by  the  recent  appearance  of  Ludlow 
in  England.  About  thirty  of  the  agents  of  the 
tyranny  of  James  were  left  to  the  law.  With 
these  exceptions,  all  political  offences,  com- 
mitted before  the  day  on  which  the  royal  sig- 
nature was  afffxed  to  the  Act,  were  covered 
with  a  general  oblivion.*  Even  the  criminals 
who  were  by  name  excluded  had  little  to  fear. 
Many  of  them  were  in  foreign  countries ;  and 
those  who  were  in  England  were  well  assured 
that,  unless  they  committed  some  new  fault, 
they  would  not  be  molested. 

"The  Act  of  Grace  the  nation  owed  to  Wil- 
liam alone;  and  it  is  one  of  his  noblest  and 
purest  titles  to  renown.  From  the  commence- 
ment of  the  civil  troubles  of  the  seventeenth 
century  down  to  the  Revolution,  every  victory 
gained  by  either  party  had  been  followed  by  a 


!=Stat.   2  W.  &  M.   se.ss.    1,  c.   10 
12 


sanguinary  proscriplion.  When  tlie  Ronnd- 
heads  triumphed  over  the  CavaHers,  when  the 
Cavahers  triumphed  over  the  Roundheads, 
when  the  fable  of  the  Popish  plot  gave  the 
ascendency  to  the  Whigs,  when  the  detection 
of  the  Rye  House  Plot  transferred  the  ascend- 
ency to  the  Tories,  blood,  and  more  blood,  and 
still  more  blood,  had  flowed.  Every  great  ex- 
plosion and  every  great  recoil  of  public  feeling 
had  been  accompanied  by  severities  which,  at 
the  time,  the  predominant  faction  loudly  ap- 
plauded, but  which  on  a  calm  review,  history 
and  posterity  have  condemned.  Xo  wise  and 
humane  man,  whatever  may  be  his  political 
opinions,  now  mentions  without  reprehension 
the  death  either  of  Laud  or  of  \'ane.  either  of 
Stafford  or  of  Russell.  Of  the  alternate  butch- 
eries the  last  and  worst  is  that  which  is  insep- 
arably associated  with  the  names  of  James  and 
Jeffreys.  But  it  assuredly  would  not  have 
been  the  last,  perhaps  it  might  not  have  been 
the  worst,  if  William  had  not  had  the  virtue 
and  the  firmness  resolutely  to  withstand  the 
importunity  of  his  most  zealous  adherents. 
These  men  were  bent  on  exacting  a  terrible 
retribution  for  all  they  had  undergone  during 
seven  disastrous  years.  The  scaft'old  of  Sid- 
ney, the  gibbet  of  Cornish,  the  stake  at  which 
Elizabeth  Gaunt  had  perished  in  the  flames  for 

13 


the  crime  of  harbouring  a  fugitive,  the  porches 
of  the  Somersetshire  churches  surmounted  by 
the  skulls  and  quarters  of  murdered  peasants, 
the  holds  of  those  Jamaica  ships  from  which 
every  day  the  carcass  of  some  prisoner  dead 
of  thirst  and  foul  air  had  been  flung  to  the 
sharks,  all  these  things  were  fresh  in  the  mem- 
ory of  the  party  which  the  Revolution  had 
made,  for  a  time,  dominant  in  the  State.  Some 
chiefs  of  that  party  had  redeemed  their  necks 
by  paying  heavy  ransom.  Others  had  lan- 
guished long  in  Newgate.  Others  had  starved 
and  shivered  winter  after  winter,  in  the  garrets 
of  Amsterdam.  It  was  natural  that  in  the  day 
of  their  power  and  prosperity  they  should  wish 
to  inflict  some  part  of  what  they  had  suffered. 
During  a  whole  year  they  pursued  their  scheme 
of  revenge.  They  succeeded  in  defeating  In- 
demnity Bill  after  Indemnity  Bill.  Nothing 
stood  between  them  and  their  victims,  but  Wil- 
liam's immutable  resolution  that  the  glory  of 
the  great  deliverance  which  he  had  wrought 
should  not  be  sullied  by  cruelty.  His  clem- 
ency was  peculiar  to  himself.  It  was  not  the 
clemency  of  an  ostentatiousinan,  or  of  a  senti- 
mental man,  or  of  an  easy  tempered  man.  It 
was  cold,  unconciliating,  inflexible.  It  pro- 
duced no  fine  stage  effects.  It  drew  on  him 
the  savage  invectives  of  those  whose  malevo-  / 


14 


lent  passions  he  refused  to  satisfy.  It  won  for 
him  no  gratitude  from  those  who  owed  to  him 
fortune,  Hherty,  and  Hfe.  While  the  violent 
Whigs  railed  at  his  lenity,  the  agents  of  the 
fallen  tyranny,  as  soon  as  they  found  them- 
selves safe,  instead  of  acknowledging  their  ob- 
ligations to  him,  reproached  him  in  insulting 
language  with  the  mercy  which  he  had  extend- 
ed to  them.  His  Act  of  Grace,  they  said,  had 
completely  refuted  his  Declaration.  Was  it 
possible  to  believe  that,  if  there  had  been  any 
truth  in  the  charges  which  he  had  brought 
against  the  late  government,  he  would  have 
granted  iniminiity  to  the  guilty?  It  was  now 
acknowledged  by  himself,  under  his  own  hand, 
that  the  stories  by  which  he  and  his  friends 
had  deluded  the  nation  and  driven  away  the 
royal  family  were  mere  calumnies  devised  to 
serve  a  turn.  The  turn  had  been  served ;  and 
the  accusations  by  which  he  had  inflamed  the 
public  mind  to  madness  were  coolly  with- 
drawn. But  none  of  these  things  moved  him. 
He  had  done  well.  He  had  risked  his  popu- 
larity with  men  who  had  been  his  warmest 
admirers,  in  order  to  give  repose  and  security 
to  men  by  whom  his  name  was  never  men- 
tioned without  a  curse.  Nor  had  he  conferred 
a  less  benefit  on  those  whom  he  iiad  disappoint- 
ed of  their  revenge  than  on  those  whom  he  had 

15 


protected.  If  he  had  saved  one  ^faction  from  a 
proscription,  he  had  saved  the  other  from  the 
reaction  which  such  a  proscription  would  in- 
evital)ly  have  produced.  If  his  people  did  not 
justly  appreciate  his  policy,  so  much  the  worse 
for  them.  He  had  discharged  his  duty  by 
them.  He  feared  no  obloquy ;  and  he  wanted 
no  thanks." 

(c)   This  statement  of   Macaulay's  method 
could  not  be   fully  corroborated  without 
immoderately   long  citations.     The  truth 
of  the  statement,  however,  will  be  appre- 
hended  by   the   most   casual   reader   wdio 
will  study  attentively  any  one  chapter  with 
regard  to  the  point.     The  following  are 
illustrative  references  : 
\V)1.  HI.     Pp.  41-43.  71-77,  128-129,  141- 
145.    166-170,    171-219,    266-269,    289- 
291,  489-497,  497-500.  ci  al. 
\"ol.  I\'.     Pp.  117-119.  190-193.  193-209. 
221-222,     249-255,     255-260.     419-427, 
497-499,  547-551. 
\'ol.  V.     Pp.  16-22.  42-51.  53-67.  ct  al. 
(  d  )    In  wave  moment  of  paragraphs  there 
is  a  striking  contrast  between  ^Nlacaulay 
and  Gibbon.     Students  of  ^lacaulay  have 
never  marked  this  contrast.    The  massive 
uniformity  of  Gibbon's  periods  has  been 

*The    edition    here    followe:!    is    tliat    of    tlie    Amer. 
Publ.    Corpora.,   New   York,    310-31S    SixUi   Ave. 
16 


compared  to  the  tramp  of  a  Roman  legion. 
In  Alacanlay  the  paragraph  at  any  point 
in  the  History  ofifers  a  variety  of  move- 
ment commensurable  with  the  effect  he 
desires  to  make  on  the  reader. 

The  SIiorfciiiiKj  and  LciKjthriiiiKj  of  Para- 
graphs. 
(a)  The  explanation  of  the  general  plan  of 
grouping,  which  I  have  remarked  upon  is 
easy.  ( 1 )  The  short  paragraph  is  usually 
transitional,  technically  a  link-paragraph. 
It  carries  the  mind  of  the  reader  on  from 
one  set  of  events  which  have  been  con- 
cluded, to  another  set  of  events  which  are 
just  beginning  to  be  narrated.  The  second 
paragra])h  is  summarizing ;  that  is  to  say. 
it  states  the  main  points  or  the  outline  of 
the  subject  which  is  to  be  treated  in  the 
scries.  The  long  paragraphs  which  follow 
contain  the  details  of  the  subject  of  the 
series.  (2)  Macaulay's  evident  intention 
in  observing  this  order  and  increasing 
length  of  paragraph  was  to  gradually 
arouse  the  interest  of  the  reader  until  he 
came  to  the  grand  paragraph,  after  which 
he  would  relax  the  tension  by  following 
up  the  climax  with  a  medium  paragraph, 
and  thus  gently  lead  liim  into  the  next  sub- 
ject or  the  next  series.    The  effect  is  what 

17 


is  called  in  music  crescendo.  The  author 
hurries  the  reader  to  the  climax  in  the 
grand  paragraph,  where  the  mind  revels 
in  details  or  is  dazzled  with  colors. 

(b)  But  Alacaulay's  general  plan  has  many 
exceptions.  (1)  The  commonest  diverg- 
ence from  the  normal  is  to  pass  directly 
from  a  short  paragraph  to  a  long  para- 
graph or  to  several  long  paragraphs  with- 
out a  medium  paragraph,  either  between 
the  short  and  the  first  long,  or  at  the  end 
of  the  series.  (2)  One  series  of  para- 
graphs on  a  given  subject  is  sometimes 
connected  with  another  series  on  another 
subject  without  the  interposition  of  link 
and  medium  (or  summarizing)  para- 
graphs. This  is  accomplished  by  what  is 
technically  called  the  echo. 

(c)  The  paragraph  shortening  and  length- 
ening varies  (1)  according  to  the  material 
the  author  has  in  hand  ;  and  (2)  accord- 
ing to  the  attitude  of  his  mind  towards 
the  matter.  The  variety  in  the  size  of  the 
groups  depends,  of  course,  on  what  place 
or  character  is  to  be  described,  events  nar- 
rated, or  principle  explained.  The  wave 
movement  also  varies  with  the  attitude  of 
the  mind  of  Macaulay  to  his  material,  his 
mood,  and  the  impression  which  fact,  or 


truth,  or  principle  has  made  on  him. 
Macaulay  is  always  a  consummate  artist 
and  the  groups  of  paragraphs  increase  or 
decrease  in  size  in  obedience  to  his  taste 
for  striking  effect. 

3.     Reasons  for  Macaiilax's   J\iriatioiis  from 
His  Usual  Manner  of  Grouping.     De- 
tailed    E.vplanations     for     Groups     of 
Short,  Medium  and  Long  Paragraphs. 
Besides    the    variations    already   mentioned, 
other  significant  expedients  are  to  be  noticed : 
(a)    Groups  of  short  paragraphs. 

( 1 )     Short    paragraphs     are     sometimes 
bunched   together   for  condensation   of 
thought   and    for   concentration   of  the 
attention. 
Thus : 

"The  baptismal  service  was  repeatedly  dis- 
cussed. As  to  matter  of  form  the  Commis- 
sioners were  disposed  to  be  indulgent.  They 
were  generally  willing  to  admit  infants  into 
the  Church  without  sponsors  and  without  the 
sign  of  the  cross.  But  the  majority,  after 
much  (lel)ate,  steadily  refused  to  soften  down 
or  explain  away  those  words  which,  to  all 
minds  not  sophisticated,  appear  to  assert  the 
regenerating  virtue  of  the  sacrament. 

As  to  the  surplice,  the  Commissioners  de- 
termined to  recommend  that  a  large  discretion 

19 


should  be  left  to  the  Bishops.  Expedients 
were  devised  by  which  a  person  who  had  re- 
ceived Presbyterian  ordination  might,  without 
admitting,  either  expressly  or  by  implication, 
the  invalidity  of  that  ordination,  become  a  min- 
ister of  the  Church  of  England. 

"The  ecclesiastical  calendar  was  carefully 
revised.  The  great  festivals  were  retained. 
But  it  was  not  thought  desirable  that  Saint 
A'alentine.  Saint  Chad,  Saint  Swithin,  Saint 
Edward  King  of  the  West  Saxons,  Saint  Dun- 
stan,  and  Saint  Alphage,  should  share  the  hon- 
ours of  Saint  John  and  Saint  Paul ;  or  that  the 
Church  should  appear  to  class  the  ridiculous 
fable  of  the  discovery  of  the  cross  so  awfully 
important  as  the  Nativity,  the  Passion,  the 
Resurrection  and  the  Ascension  of  her  Lord." 
—A'.  Ill,  P.  424,  Ch.  14. 

(2)    There  may  also  be  a  succession  of 

short  paragraphs  where  the  object  is  to 

produce  animation  and  movement.     In 

the    following   the    mind   moves   along 

rapidly  with  the  events  : 

"But  it  was  too  late.    The  King's  forces  were 

now  near  at  hand.     Colonel  Oglethorpe,  at  the 

head   of   about   a   hundred   men   of   the   Life 

Guards,  dashed  into  Keynsham,  scattered  two 

troops  of  rebel  horse  which  ventured  to  oppose 

I'.'m,  and  retired  after  inflicting  much  injury 

20 


and  suffering  little.  In  these  circumstances  it 
was  thought  necessary  to  relinquish  the  design 
on  Bristol. 

"TUit  what  was  to  he  done?  Several  schemes 
were  proposed  and  discussed.  It  was  suggest- 
ed that  Monmouth  might  hasten  to  Gloucester, 
might  cross  the  Severn  there,  might  break 
down  the  bridge  behind  him,  and,  with  his 
right  flank  protected  by  the  river,  might  march 
through  Worcestershire  into  Shropshire  and 
Cheshire.  He  had  formerly  made  a  progress 
through  those  counties,  and  had  been  received 
there  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  in  Somerset- 
shire and  Devonshire.  His  presence  might  re- 
vive the  zeal  of  his  old  friends;  and  his  army 
might  in  a  few  days  be  swollen  to  double  its 
present  numbers. 

"On  full  consideration,  however,  it  appeared 
that  this  plan,  though  specious,  was  impracti- 
cable. The  rebels  were  ill  shod  for  such  work 
as  they  had  lately  undergone,  and  were  ex- 
hausted by  toiling,  day  after  day.  through 
deep  mud  under  heavy  rain.  Harassed  and 
impeded  as  they  would  be  at  every  stage  by  the 
enemy's  cavalry,  they  could  not  hope  to  reach 
Gloucester  without  being  overtaken  by  the 
main  body  of  the  royal  troops,  and  forced  to  a 
general  action  under  every  disadvantage. 

"Then  it  was  proposed  to  enter  Wiltshire. 

21 


Persons  who  professed  to  know  that  county 
well  assured  the  Duke  that  he  would  be  joined 
there  by  such  strong  reinforcements  as  would 
make  it  safe  for  him  to  give  battle. 

"He  took  this  advice,  and  turned  towards 
Wiltshire.  He  first  summoned  Bath.  But 
Bath  was  strongly  garrisoned  for  the  King ; 
and  Feversham  was  fast  approaching.  The 
rebels,  therefore,  made  no  attempt  on  the  walls, 
but  hastened  to  Philip's  Norton,  where  they 
halted  on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-sixth  of 
June. 

"Feversham  followed  them  thither.  Early 
on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-seventh  tliey 
were  alarmed  by  tidings  that  he  was  close  at 
hand.  They  got  into  order,  and  lined  the 
hedges  leading  to  the  town." — Ch.  5,  Mon- 
mouth's Movements. 

vSee  also  the  approach  of  Monmouth  to  land, 
in  the  same  chapter;  and  H,  426-427,  560-577, 
587-588,  etc. 

In  the  excitement  of  description  Macaulay 
is  apt  to  group  together  many  short  paragraphs. 
See  Londonderry,  Trial  of  Seven  Bishops,  Ex- 
pulsion of  Fellows  of  Magdalen,  the  Battle  of 
the  Boyne,  etc. 

(b)   Groups    of    medium    paragraphs. 

(1)    When   his   mood    is    calm   and   ex- 
pository the  writer  is  apt  to  convey  his 

22 


thought  in  a  series  of  medium  para- 
graphs. See  the  first  fifteen  pages  of 
ch.  5  of  the  History,  the  characters  of 
the  rebels  in  Holland.  (2)  Plain  state- 
ment of  fact  is  likely  to  be  given  in 
groups  of  medium  paragraphs.  Thus 
the  first  ten  pages  of  ch.  13  on  the  Rev- 
olution in  Scotland. 
(  c  )    Series  of  long  paragraphs. 

If  his  short  paragraphs  show  ]\Iacaulay's 
transcendent  power  in  cogent  state- 
ment, in  rapid  movement,  it  is  in  his 
long  paragraphs  that  he  rises  into  ex- 
alting thought.  It  is  here  that  he 
lavishes  color  and  phrase.  It  is  here 
that  the  intellect  scintillates.  When 
the  subject  of  a  series  of  paragraphs 
is  lofty,  all  the  paragraphs  of  the 
series  are  long,  majestic  in  movement, 
and  dazzle  with  materials  of  rarest 
brilliance.  The  best  example  of  this 
kind  of  grouping  is  the  account  of 
the  intellectual  life  of  England  at  the 
close  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II,  ch.  3. 
Diflferent.  but  equally  rich  in  phrase, 
figure,  and  sustained  majesty  is  the 
series  of  long  paragraphs  on  the  char- 
acters of  William  and  Mary,  ch.  7. 


23 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  INDIVIDUAL  PARAGRAPHS 


1.     Kinds  of  Paragraph  Used  by  Macaitlay. 

There  are,  of  course,  two  kinds  of  para- 
graphs; the  connected  and  the  isolated.  Most, 
if  not  ah.  of  Macaulay's  paragraphs  belong  to 
the  first  kind.  The  connected  paragraphs  may 
be  classed  into  short,  medium  and  long,  ac- 
cording to  length  and  content,  as  stated  in 
chapter  I.  To  recapitulate,  under  the  class  of 
short  paragraphs  may  be  put  link  paragraphs 
and  the  short  paragraphs  of  movement  in  nar- 
rative and  description.  Under  medium  para- 
graphs may  be  put  the  paragraphs  of  twenty 
lines  which  occur  in  ordinary  narration  and  de- 
scription, and  the  summaries  at  the  beginning 
or  end  of  Macaulay's  paragraph-series.  Final- 
ly, under  long  paragraphs,  may  be  put  the 
grand  paragraph  of  a  series,  or  a  succession 
of  long  paragraphs. 

Strictly,  there  are  no  isolated  paragraphs  in 
the  History,  since  such  a  work  is,  by  its  very 
nature,  connected  throughout.  Nevertheless, 
there  is  found  occasionally  a  paragraph  on  a 

24 


theme  not  needed  in  tlie  progress  of  tlie  main 
narrative.  Init  standinj^  apart  from  it.  Such  a 
paragraph  is  usuahy  a  single  long  paragraph 
in  which  a  mass  of  facts  is  gathered  into  one 
narrative  paragrai)h  suhsidiary  to  main  narra- 
tive. See  the  account  of  the  House  of  Devon- 
shire, V.  II,  pp.  228-230,  and  of  the  inllnence 
of  Sutherland,  v.  I\',  ])p.  495-497. 
2.      rnity. 

I'nity  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  par- 
agrai^h  and  the  paragraph-group.  The  fol- 
lowing ohservations  on  the  History  arc  in 
point :  (  1  )  Alacaulay  is  painstaking  in  the 
unity  of  the  paragraph,  and  has  proven  his 
mastery  of  the  principle;  (2)  as  a  rule  each  of 
his  paragra])hs  is  on  a  single  topic;  (3)  the 
materials  on  that  to])ic  are  variously  used  in 
the  ]:)aragraph  according  to  ( a )  the  hearing 
of  the  to])ic  on  the  theme  in  hand,  (b)  form 
into  which  the  theme  is  to  be  cast,  \\4iatever 
may  l)c  the  bearing  of  the  topic  of  a  paragraph, 
and  whatever  the  variety  in  the  arranging  of 
the  materials,  it  will  be  found  that  paragra])h- 
unity  is  in  general  carefully  observed. 

It  might  be  added  here  that  ^vlacaulav  is  usu- 
ally careful,  not  only  in  unity  of  single  para- 
graphs, but  also  in  the  grouping  of  paragraphs. 
Always  vigilant  and  intensely  alive,  never  awk- 
ward,   Macaulay's    success    in    im])ressing    his 

25 


thought  on  the  mind  of  his  reader  is  partly  due 
to  care  in  paragraph-unity  and  scrupulous  care 
in  the  unity  of  groups  of  paragraphs. 

3.     Sequence. 

If  it  can  be  said  that  he  preserves  unity,  it 
cannot  be  said  that  he  always  takes  the  same 
pains  to  secure  sequence,  either  in  a  single  par- 
agraph or  in  the  paragraph-group.  I  do  not 
go  to  the  extreme  of  saying  that  ^lacaulay  is. 
grossly  deficient  in  this  point.  His  faults  are 
at  once  evident  and  striking.  They  may  be 
summarized  thus : 

(1)  Lapses  into  the  hum-drum  of  a  public 
document.  See  the  middle  of  ch.  7  of 
the  History — summary  of  Lords  dismissed 
by  James.  Each  sentence  begins  with  the. 
and  the  paragraph  is  inelegant. 
(2)"  Breaks  between  link  and  first  para- 
graph of  a  series.*  See  H,  376,  ch.  9. 
"The  task  would  indeed 
and  "on  the  great  day  ..."  The  reader 
feels  as  if  he  were  left  hanging  in  the  air. 
(3)  Breaks  at  the  beginning  of  a  paragraph 
and  continuing  throughout : 

"To  what  cause     .     .     ."      (See  third 
sentence)  vol.  IV.,  p.  28,  ch.  18. 

"Of  all  the  actors    .     .     ."    "The  most 

*The  words  quoted  are  the  opening  words  of  the 
paragraphs  where  there  is  a  break.  This  is  done  to 
indicate  the  paragraph  in  whieh  the  break  occurs. 


jiopiilar  actress     .     .     ."     Vol.    IV.    pp. 
381.  382.  ch.  19. 
(4)    Deviations  in  the  i\ira,qra]-)h  to  a  new 
line  of  thought. 

(a)  A  deviation  with  a  return  to  the 
original  thought. 

"During  the  two  years  and  a  half  .  .  .'" 
Vol.  IV,  p.  39.  ch.  21. 

(b)  A  deviation  witlKmt  a  return  to 
the  original  thought. 

"Portland  now  repaired 

"Swift  many  years  later  .  .  .'"  \"ol. 
IV,  pp.  434-433,  ch.  19. 

In  the  last  case  the  aside,  to  use  a  the- 
atrical term,  begins  at  the  middle  of 
a  paragraph  and  continues    through 
the  first  third  of  the  following. 
(5  )   Other  breaks  within  the  paragraph. 

(a)  Due  to  lack  of  connecting  sentences 
or  phrases. 

"David  Mume,  undoubtedly  one  of  the 
most  profound  political  economists  of 
his  time,  declared  that  our  madness 
had  exceeded  the  madness  of  the  cru- 
sades. Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  and 
Saint  Lewis  had  gone  in  the  face  of 
arithmetical  demonstration,"  etc. 

(b)  Due  to  fondness  for  startling  com- 
parison.    See  the  paragraphs : 

27 


"The  master  of  stair  seems    .    .    ."  and 
"An  order  was  laid  before  him    .     .    ." 

A'.  I\',  pp.  286-289,  ch.  18. 
(c)    Use  of  unexplained  references  to 

persons  or  places. 
"He  concealed  the  instruments     .     .     . 
and  bade  defiance  to     .     .     .  the  Lit- 
tle Hooknose  himself." 
"Little  Hooknose"  is  never  explained. 
In   concluding   this   section,   let  me   offer  a 
word  of  excuse  for  ]\Iacaulay's  seeming  disre- 
gard of  the  principle  of  sequence  :      (1 )   It  was 
undoubtedly  an  artifice  of  style,  his  idea  being 
to  startle  his  readers;   (2)   it  was  in  part  an 
outcome  of  his  habits  in  public  speaking. 

4.    Connectives. 

A  complete  study  of  Macaulay's  connectives 
is  beyond  the  hmits  of  this  thesis.     I  have  con- 
lined  myself,  therefore,  to  his  commonest  uses. 
A.    Use  of  but. 

( a )  The  frequency  with  which  ]Macaulay 
uses  but  as  a  connective  has  often  been 
remarked  upon.  Lewis  in  his  History  of 
the  English  Para'graph^'^  has  stated  that 
fifteen  per  cent  of  his  connectives  are  hut 
and  hut  vet;  and  Minto  and  all  the  rhetor- 
icians and  litterateurs  who  have  touched 
upon  Alacaulay  have  said  substantially  the 


*P.   178. 

28 


same  thing.  An  explanation  has  never 
been  given. 
( b )  The  truth  is  that  Macaulay  either  sub- 
stitutes but  for  other  connectives  or  so 
forms  his  sentences  that  he  deems  no  other 
connectives  necessary.  He  makes  plain, 
direct  statements :  all  restrictions  are 
begun  with  a  but.  It  will  be  found  that 
most  of  the  sentences  or  clauses  which 
begin  with  a  but  are  just  as  bold,  plain, 
direct  as  the  sentences  without  a  but.  the 
difference  being  that  the  "but"'  construc- 
tion conveys  a  restriction  of  opinion  and 
the  other  construction  does  not. 
Thus : 

"It  is  remarkable  that  the  Lord  President, 
at  the  very  time  at  which  he  was  insulted  as  a 
W'illiamite  at  Bath,  was  considered  as  a 
stanch  Jacobite  at  Saint  Germains.  How  he 
came  to  be  so  considered  is  a  most  perplexing 
question.  Some  writers  are  of  opinion  that 
he,  like  Shrewsbury,  Russell,  Godolphin,  and 
Marlborough,  entered  into  engagements  with 
one  king  while  eating  the  Ijread  of  the  other. 
But  this  opinion  does  not  rest  on  sufficient 
proofs.  About  the  treasons  of  Shrewsbury, 
of  Russell,  of  Godolphin,  and  of  Marlborough, 
we  have  a  great  mass  of  evidence,  derived 
from  various  sources,  and  extending  over  sev- 

29 


eral  years.  But  all  the  information  which  we 
possess  about  Caermarthen's  dealings  with 
James  is  contained  in  a  single  short  paper 
written  by  Alelfort  on  the  sixteenth  of  Octo- 
ber, 1693.  From  that  paper  it  is  quite  clear 
that  some  intelligence  had  reached  the  ban- 
ished King  and  his  ^Ministers  which  led  them 
\o  regard  Caermarthen  as  a  friend.  But 
there  is  no  proof  that  they  ever  so  regarded 
him.  either  before  that  day  or  after  that  day." 
— Ch.  22. 

It  is  true  that  ]\Iacaulay  is  immoderate  in 
the  use  of  this  connective.  The  frecjuency  of 
its  occurrence  is  to  be  explained  as  the  out- 
come of  his  absolute  confidence  in  his  opinions 
and  his  boldness  in  enunciating  them. 

(c)  The  above  statement  is  not  offered  in 
justification  of  the  practice,  but  as  an  ex- 
planation. Obviously  Macaulay  has  used 
the  connective  too  often.  He  jerks  us 
"Back  and  forth  with  it  from  thought  to 
thought,  situation  to  situation  : 

(1)  "It  was  hardly  possible  to  be  at  once 
a  consistent  Quaker  and  a  courtier ;  but 
it  was  utterly  impossible  to  be     .    .     .  " 

(2)  (End  of  one  paragraph) — "  .  .  . 
he  therefore  soon  regained  his  liberty 
and  returned  to  his  plots." 

(3)  (Beginning  of  the   succeeding  para- 

30 


graph) — "But  the  chief  conspirator 
.  .  ."  etc. 
These  huts  constantly  appear  at  the  heads 
of  paragraphs,  at  the  beginnings  of  sentences 
and  clauses.  The  reader  feels  that  there  is  no 
moderation  in  the  use.  and  that  in  most  places 
the  "hut"  is  redundant:  for.  in  the  first  place, 
it  is  inimical  to  that  easy  flow  of  prose  for 
which  De  Ouincey  is  noted  ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  it  causes  the  reader  to  doubt  the  writer's 
coherence. 

(d)  "But"  with  an  adverb  or  conjunction. 
In  the  History  we  constantly  find  but  used 
with  adverbs :  such  as  "now,"  "even." 
"how,""  "though."  "whether."  This  is  an- 
other instance  of  Macaulay's  attachment 
to  the  but.  Many  times  the  expression 
would  be  more  forcible  without  it.  Note: 
"But  now  the  other  divisions  of  the  army 
were  in  motion.'"  I.  546.  "But  whether 
the  opportunity  should  be  seized  or  lost 
it  did  not  belong  to  him  to  decide.""  I\'. 
491.  "But  how  was  the  ])lan  to  be  carried 
into  effect?""  11,306. 
Jj.  The  word  aiid  is  almost  always  em- 
])loycd  correctly  in  }ilacaula}'.  The  excep- 
tions are:  (a)  superfluous,  not  to  say  er- 
roneous, use  at  the  beginning  of  the  sen- 
tence : — "It  was  regarded  as  the  restora- 

31 


tion  of  national  independence.  And  true 
it  was  .  .  ."  I,  173.  "And  all  was  lost, 
and  nothing  remained  .  .  ."  I.  154;  (b) 
and  followed  by  an  adverb.  "And  now 
during  a  few  hours  .  .  ."  I,  500. 
"And  now  the  Earl     .     .     ."     I,  507. 

C.  The  fact  that  INlacaulay  was  writing  his- 
tory is  sufficient  reason  for  the  prevalence 
of  adverbs  and  adverbial  phrases  as  sen- 
tence and  paragraph  connectives.  One 
curious  fact  is  noteworthy.  How  much 
he  was  a  writer  and  how  little  a  mere 
chronicler  is  seen  in  that  he  pays  scarcely 
any  attention  to  dates.  As  a  great  nar- 
rator and  describer  of  things  connected 
with  men  and  manners,  government  and 
political  action,  he  pays  more  attention  to 
events  than  to  geography  and  chronology. 
His  time-connectives  are  the  adverbs  and 
adverbial  phrases,  "now."  "meanwhile," 
"by  this  time,"  "at  this  time,"  etc.  This  is 
his  manner :  first,  of  connecting  event 
with  event ;  secondly,  of  signifying  that 
the  narratives  are  to  be  carried  on. 

D.  This  remark  may  serve  as  an  explanation 
of  IMacaulay's  suppression  of  connectives, 
avoidance  of  qualifying  clauses  and 
phrases  and  avoidance  of  long  sentences. 
First,  his  idea  was  to  make  his  sentences 

a2 


sharp  and  pungent ;  second,  by  ridding 
himself  of  restrictive  clauses  and  phrases, 
to  gain  rapidity  of  movement.  These 
habits  involved  the  dropping  of  con- 
nectives. 
/  'ariaiioiis  of  l.^iiify. 

A.  The  tendency  of  Macaulay  as  a  para- 
grapher  was  to  pass  from  short  to  long 
paragraphs  and  then  back  again  to  short. 
In  the  long  paragraphs  his  mind  is 
wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch.  In  them 
he  centers  the  interest  of  the  reader  in 
masses  of  picturesque  details  : 

B.  The  danger  is  evident,  to-wit :  the  habit 
of  cumulation  may  occasionally  lead  to 
disregard  of  the  rule  of  unity.  This  is 
sometimes  true  of  Macaulay  :  (1)  A  long 
paragraph  of  description  or  narration 
might  have  been  made  more  artistic  and 
efifective  by  separating  the  narrative  from 
the  descriptive  part.  See  the  home  and 
habits  of  the  Macdonalds.  ch.  18.  (2)  A 
long  paragraph  of  narration  is  to  be  found 
wdiich  normally  should  have  been  two  par- 
agraphs. See  the  examination  of  Fen- 
wick,  ch.  22.  In  this  the  second  paragraph 
should  start  at  the  point  "then  the  struggle 
began."  (3)  In  one  place  it  is  noticeable 
that  Macaulay  breaks  away  from  true  nar- 

33 


ration  to  answer  a  number  of  imaginary 
questions.  This  breaks  the  continuity  of 
a  paragraph  group.  See  the  fifth  and 
sixth  paragraphs  of  ch.  15. 
C.  These  instances  just  cited  are  exceptions 
from  the  rule.  ^Nlacaulay,  even  in  a  single 
paragraph  covering  several  pages  octavo, 
as  in  the  account  of  Louis  XIY  at  the 
close  of  ch.  11,  preserves  unity  in  a  multi- 
tude of  glittering  details. 
The  Link-Paragraph. 

A.  Xo  author  is  more  scrupulous  in  the  con- 
nection of  paragraph  with  paragraph,  and 
group  with  group,  than  Macaulay.  ]\Iy 
observation  is  that  he  always  makes  these 
connections  either  by  means  of  what  is 
technically  called  the  echo  or  else  by 
means  of  the  link-paragraph.  He  adheres 
strictly  to  this  throughout  the  entire  His- 
torv\  A  multitude  of  examples  might  be 
advanced  in  proof ;  but  when  the  term  link 
is  clearly  understood  and  it  is  stated  that 
Macaulay  rigorously  adheres  to  the  rule 
ref|uiring  occasionally  the  link  a-  pause  or 
connective,  it  is  unnecessary  to  tabulate 
examples. 

B.  ^lacaulay's  use  of  the  link. 

(a)   Within  the  chapters. 

M)   To  connect  subject  with  subject. 

34 


He  has  mentioned  the  unpopularity 
of  the  government  in  Scotland  and 
Ireland  and  is  just  about  to  discuss 
the  unpopularity  of  the  government 
at  home : 

"^leantime  the  government  had.  even  in 
England,  ceased  to  be  popular.  The  Royalists 
had  begun  to  quarrel  with  the  court  and  with 
each  other :  and  the  party  which  had  been  van- 
quished, trampled  down.  and.  as  it  seemed,  an- 
nihilated, but  which  had  still  retained  a  strong 
principle  of  life,  again  raised  its  head,  and 
renewed  the  interminable  war."  I  177,  ch.  2. 
Or  this,  between  an  argument  on  the  rights 
of  William  and  an  account  of  the  services  of 
Burnet : 

"The  great  object  of  \\'illiam  was  now  to 
unite  in  one  body  the  numerous  sections  of  the 
community  which  regarded  him  as  their  com- 
mon head.  In  this  work  he  had  several  able 
and  trusty  coadjutors,  among  whom  two  were 
preeminently  useful.  Burnet  and  Dykvelt."  II 
235,  ch.  7. 

(2)  To  connect  one  part  of  a  subject 
with  another  part  of  the  same  sub- 
ject. The  following  is  an  instance 
where  the  character  description  of 
Schomberg  is  linked  with  a  narra- 
tion of  his  military  operations  : 

35 


"On  the  twentieth  of  August  the  Parhament, 
having  been  constantly  engaged  in  business 
during  seven  months,  broke  up,  by  the  royal 
command,  for  a  short  recess.  The  same  Ga- 
zette which  announced  that  the  Houses  had 
ceased  to  sit  announced  that  Schomberg  had 
landed  in  Ireland."     Ill  374.  ch.   14. 

C.  Sometimes  two  links  are  found  together, 
the  one  looking  back  on  what  has  been 
said,  the  other  looking  forward  to  what  is 
to  be   said.      In   the    following,   the   first 
looks  l)ack  on  what  has  been  said  upon 
"terms  for  Protestant  Dissenters,"  the  sec- 
ond looks  forward  to  what  is  to  be  said 
upon  the  Toleration  act : 
"Such  were  the  terms  on  which  the  Protest- 
ant dissenters  of  England  were,  for  the  first 
time,  permitted  by  law  to  worship  God  accord- 
ing to  their  own  conscience.     They  were  very 
properly    forbidden   to   assemble   with   barred 
doors,  but  were  protected  against  hostile  intru- 
sion by  a  clause  which  made  it  penal  to  enter 
a  meeting  house  for  the  purpose  of  molesting 
the  congregation. 

"As  if  the  numerous  limitations  and  precau- 
tions which  have  been  mentioned  were  insuffi- 
cient, it  was  emphatically  declared  that  the 
legislature  did  not  intend  to  grant  the  smallest 
indulgence  to  any  Papist,  or  to  any  person  who 


denied  tlie  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  as  tliat  doc- 
trine is  set  forth  in  the  formularies  of  the 
Church  of  England."     Ill  85,  ch.  11. 

(b)    Between  chapter  and  chapter. 

( 1 )  At  the  close  of  a  chapter,  looking 
forward  to  the  next  chapter : 

"During  the  three  days  which  followed  the 
arrival  of  the  disastrous  tidings  from  Beachy 
Head,  the  aspect  of  London  was  gloomy  and 
agitated.  But  on  the  fourth  day  all  was 
changed.  I5ells  were  pealing ;  flags  were  fly- 
ing; candles  were  arranged  in  the  windows  for 
an  illumination ;  men  were  eagerly  shaking 
hands  with  each  other  in  the  streets.  A  courier 
had  that  morning  arrived  at  Whitehall  witli 
great  news  from  Ireland."     Close  ch.  15. 

(2)  At  the  beginning  of  a  chapter, 
looking  back  on  the  preceding 
chapter  : 

'"William  had  been,  diu-ing  the  whole  spring, 
impatiently  expected  in  Ulster.  The  Protest- 
ant settlements  along  the  coast  of  that  prov- 
ince had.  in  the  course  of  the  month  of  May, 
been  repeatedly  agitated  by  false  reports  of 
his  arrival."  Beginning  of  ch.  16. 
7.     Parayra/^h-Echo. 

A.  The  paragraph-echo  consists  in  making 
the  beginning  sentence  of  the  paragra])h 
echo  the  thought,  and  sometimes  the  word- 

37 


ing,  of  the  conclusion  of  the  preceding 
paragraph.*  Three  motives  may  be  as- 
signed for  Macaulay's  constant  use  of  this 
device  ;  first,  though  his  work  is  mainly 
narrative,  he  habitually  refrains  from  giv- 
ing dates  ;  some  means  of  connecting  para- 
graph with  paragraph  is  necessary ;  sec- 
ondly, he  had  his  matter  so  clearly  in 
mind,  and  had  his  groups  planned  out  so 
systematically,  that  the  closing  thought  of 
one  paragraph  naturally  leads  into  the 
next  paragraph ;  thirdly,  the  absence  of 
dates  makes  the  echo  indispensable  for 
coupling  the  thought  or  event  of  one  para- 
graph with  that  of  another. 
B.  Macaulay's  Use  of  the  Echo. 

(a)  To  connect  paragraph  with  para- 
graph. 
"The  reply  of  James  was  cold.  He  declared 
that  he  had  no  intention  of  depriving  the  Eng- 
lish colonists  of  their  land,  but  that  he  regarded 
a  large  portion  of  them  as  his  enemies,  and 
that,  since  he  consented  to  leave  so  much 
money  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  it  was  the 
more  necessary  that  the  civil  and  military  ad- 
ministration should  be  in  the  hands  of  his 
friends. 


'J.   M.    Hnrt,    H.nndhook   of   Eng.    romp.    P.    :!!. 
38 


"Accordingly  several  Roman  Catholics  were 
sworn  of  flie  Privy  Council ;  and  orders  were 
sent  to  corporations  to  admit  Roman  Catholics 
to  municipal  advantages.  Many  officers  of  the 
army  were  arbitrarily  deprived  of  their  com- 
missions and  of  their  bread.  It  was"  11. 
135,  ch.  6. 

"disabilities  equally  galling  on  Protestants.  It 
was  plain  that,  under  such  a  prince,  apostasy 
was  the  only  road  to  greatness.  It  was  a  road, 
however,  which  few  ventured  to  take.  For 
the  spirit  of  the  nation  was  thoroughly  roused  ; 
Olid  czrry  renegade  had  to  endure  such  an 
amount  of  public  scorn  and  detestation  as  can- 
not be  altogether  unfelt  even  by  the  most  cal- 
lous natures. 

"It  is  true  that  several  remarkable  conver- 
sions had  recently  taken  place;  but  they  were 
such  as  did  little  credit  to  the  Church  of  Rome. 
Two  men  of  high  rank  had  joined  her  commu- 
nion ;  Henry  Mordaunt,  Earl  of  Peterborough, 
and  James  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury."  II,  181, 
ch.  7. 

"reasonably  be  supposed  to  agree  with  his  fa- 
ther's, had  great  weight.  The  young  politi- 
cian flattered  himself  that  he  had  secured  the 
services  of  an  agent  eminently  cjualified  to 
bring  the  negotiation  with  Tyrconnel  to  a  ])ros- 
perous  issue. 


"This  agent  was  one  of  a  remarkable  fam- 
ily which  had  sprung  from  a  noble  Scottish 
stock,  but  which  had  long  been  settled  in  Ire- 
land."    Ill  143,  ch.  12. 

"While  Montgomery  was  labouring  to  form 
out  of  various  materials  a  party  which  might, 
when  the  Convention  should  reassemble,  be 
powerful  enough  to  dictate  to  the  throne,  an 
enemy  still  more  formidable  than  Montgomery 
had  set  up  the  standard  of  civil  war  in  a  re- 
gion about  which  the  politicians  of  Westmin- 
ster, and  indeed  most  of  the  politicians  of  Ed- 
inburgh, knew  no  more  than  about  Abyssinia 
or  Japan. 

"It  is  not  easy  for  a  modern  Englishman, 
who  can  pass  in  a  day  from  his  club  in  Saint 
James's  Street  to  his  shooting  box  among  the 
Grampians,  and  who  finds  in  his  shooting  box 
all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  his  club." 
Ill,  174,  ch.  13. 

(b)  In  place  of  a  link,  to  connect  sub- 
ject with  subject, 
"resolution.  On  the  fourteenth  of  ^larch  the 
Commons  were  summoned  to  the  Upper 
House :  the  title  of  the  Triennial  Bill  was 
read ;  and  it  was  announced,  after  the  ancient 
form,  that  the  King  and  Queen  would  take 
the  matter  into  their  consideration.  The  Par- 
liament was  then  prorogued. 

40 


"Soon  after  the  prorogation  \\'i!liani  set  out 
for  tlie  Continent.  It"'  Towards  close  of 
ch.  19. 

'"the  Holy  See  and  Lewis  was  not  removed. 
The  King  continued  to  appoint  prelates ;  the 
Pope  continued  to  refuse  them  institution  ;  and 
the  consequence  was  that  a  fourth  port  of  flic 
dioceses  of  France  had  bishops  who  were  inca- 
pable of  performing  any  episcopal  function. 

"The  Anglican  Church  was,  at  this  time,  not 
less  distracted  than  the  Gallican  Church.  The 
first  of  August  had  been  fixed  by  Act  of  P'ar-" 
III,  396,  ch.  14. 

8    Begiujiings  and  Endi>igs  of  Paragraptis. 

It  is  a  trite  sayin^^  that  the  emphatic  places 
in  a  paragraph!  are  the  beginning  and  the  end. 
The  great  writers  have  all  displayed  their  skill 
in  utilizing  these  places  for  making  the  best 
impression  upon  the  reader,  but  none  has 
shown  greater  mastery  than  Macaulay.  Here 
his  artifices  are  well  nigh  legion.  The  ones 
most  frequently  exhibited  are  : 
A.    Beginning. 

(a)  His  habit  of  opening  a  paragraph 
with  an  exaggerated  statement.  He 
seems  always  ready  to  begin  a  ])ara- 
graph  with :  "never,'"  "no,"'  "nothing." 
"none."  "the  greatest.'"  Always  sure  of 
his  point,  he  exerted  himself  rather  to 

41 


impress  than  to  be  fair  and  moderate. 
Thus : 

"The  noblest  subject  in  England,  and, 
indeed,  as  Englishmen  loved  to  say,  the 
noblest  subject  in  Europe,  was  Aubrey 
de  Vere    .    .    ."" 

"None  of  the  English  nobles  enjoyed  a 
greater  measure  of  public  favour  than 
Charles  Sackville. 

"No  barrister  living  had  opposed  the 
court  with  more  virulence  than  William 
Williams. 

"Never  had  the  church  been  so  dear  to 
the  nation." 

"Never  was  there  a  clearer  case.  ..." 
(b)  Opening  with  a  commonplace  state- 
ment of  eighteen  to  twenty  words,  then 
immediately  passing  over  into  exciting 
details. 

"A  few  hours  before  the  execution  of 
the  chief  conspirators,  a  general  muster 
of  the  army  was  held  :  and  it  was  ob- 
served that  the  ranks  of  the  English 
battalions  looked  thin.  From  the  first 
day  of  the  campaign  there  had  been 
much  sick}iess  among  the  recruits  ;  but 
it  was  not  until  the  time  of  the  equinox 
that  the  mortality  became  alarming.  .  .  ." 
(And  so  on  through  a  terrible  descrip- 


tion.)  Schombero-  in  Ireland,  cli.  14. 
(c)  Opening  with  a  succinct  statement 
which  (1)  gathers  up  in  a  word  or  two 
the  substance  of  the  preceding  j^ara- 
graph,  or  (2)  denies  what  was  said  in 
the  preceding  paragraph.  Thus,  after 
speaking  at  length  of  the  sufferings  of 
the  English,  he  begins  the  next  para- 
graph : 

(1)  "The  Irish  army  suft'ered  much 
less.  The  Kerne  of  Munster  or 
Connaught.     .     .     ." 

(2)  After  giving  a  long  paragraph 
to  the  effect  of  an  alarm  on  the 
Irish  army,  he  begins  the  next  para- 
graph : 

"The    alarm    proved    false.      The 
Duke's  army     .     .     ." 
Schomberg  in  Ireland,  ch.  14. 
B.    Endings  of  Paragraphs. 

(a)  ]\Iacaulay's  power  to  converge  the 
thoughts  of  a  paragraph  into  a  striking 
close. 

Thus,  having  spoken  in  detail  of  the 
various  fortunes  of  Charles  Montague 
and  Matthew  Prior  after  they  had  to- 
gether written  a  satire  of  "The  Hind 
and  the  Panther,"  he  concludes  the  para- 
graph:   "...  At    length,    after    many 


43 


eventful  years,  the  associates,  so  long 
parted,  were  reunited  in  \\'estminster 
Abbey."  II.,  187,  ch.  7. 

(b)  Closing  a  paragraph  with  a  state- 
ment the  very  opposite  of  the  general 
thought  of  the  paragraj)!!.  See  acounts 
of  Danby,  Nottingham,  Shrewsbury. 
Ch.  11. 

(c)  Closing  one  paragraph  and  begin- 
ning the  next  with  the  same  word. 

".  .  .  On  the  following  morning 
James  left  his  capital  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  encounter  Sclwmhcrg." 

"Sclwinbcrg  had  landed  in  the  north 
of  Ulster."    III.,  379.  ch.  14. 

(d)  Closing  with  a  story  or  incident. 
These  stories  are  always  short  and 
pithy.  They  are  placed  at  the  close  of 
the  paragraph  to  illustrate  and  to  en- 
force the  teaching  of  the  paragraph. 
It  will  not  be  necessary  to  give  exam- 
ples. Opening  any  volume  of  the  His- 
tory at  random,  the  reader  will  be  pretty 
sure  to  find  one. 

(e)  Sometimes  the  whole  of  a  long  para- 
graph is  given  up  to  a  particular  inci- 
dent, the  connection  of  which  with  the 
main  narrative  does  not  become  obvious 
until  the  very  end.    In  other  words,  the 

44 


or 


l)aragra])h  is  an  illustration  made  ef- 
fective by  keeping  the  point  in  suspense 
until  the  very  close  of  the  parag-raph. 

See  Baldearg  O'Donnel  at  Limerick, 
ch.  16. 

9.    The  Subject-Sentence. 

A.  My  observation  is  that,  throughout 
the  History,  the  subject-sentences  are,  as 
a  rule,  at  the  beginning  of  the  paragraph. 
They  may  be  short  or  longer  according  to 
the  necessitv  of  the  case. 
Thus : 

"The  .Ithaiiasiaii  creed  caused  much 
perplexity.     A  Tost    of    the    Commis- 
sioners were  equally  unwilling  to  give 
up  the  doctrinal  clauses.     .     .     .'" 
III..  423.  ch.  U. 
Or: 

"The  i^reat  moral  and  intellectual  in- 
fluence of  the  En_i:^}ish  universities 
had  been  strenuously  e.verfed  on  the 
side  of  the  cro-a'u.  The  headquarters 
of  Charles  the  First  had  been  at  Ox- 
ford. .  .  .  Cambridge  was  not  less 
loyally  disposed,  etc.       .     .     ." 

Lord  Macaulay's  habit  of  com- 
posing brief  subject-sentences  and 
placing  them  at  the  beginning  is  verv 
noticeable    in    the    large    paragraph 

45 


groups  of  ordinary  narration  and  de- 
scription.      See    twelve     paragraphs 
from  "The  State  of  the  EngHsh  Part 
of  Ireland"  to  "Saint  Ruth."   II.,,  170- 
180.  ch.  17. 
P).    ?^Iany  times,  as  Minto  remarks,*  the  par- 
agraph subject-sentence  is  not  given  until 
the  fourth  or  fifth  sentence.    Thus : 

"Such  had  been  his  policy  as  long  as 
he  could  cherish  any  hope  that  the 
Church  of  England  would  consent  to 
share  ascendency  with  the  Church  of 
of  Rome.  That  hope  at  one  time 
amounted  to  confidence.  .  .  .  But  he 
was  disappointed.  His  parliament  with- 
stood him,"  etc.  etc.    II.,  189,  ch.  7. 

"The  marked  discourtesy  of  the  Pope 
might  well  have  irritated  the  weakest 
of  princes.  But  the  only  effect  wliich 
it  produced  on  James  was  to  make  him 
more  lavish  of  caresses  and  compli- 
ments. While  Castlemaine,  his  wdiole 
soul  festering  with  angry  passions,  was 
on  his  road  back  to  England,  the  Nun- 
cio zms  loaded  zcith  honours  zchich  his 
ozvn  judgment  zvould  have  led  him  to 
reject.  ..." 

(All  the  rest  of  the  long  paragraph 


*Manual   of  Eng.     Prose. 
46 


is    on    these    honors.)      Cli.    8.    para- 
graph 1. 

When  the  subject-sentence,  as  above, 
does  not  come  till  the   fourth  or  fifth 
sentence  it  will  be  found  that  the  first 
few  sentences  summarize  what  has  been 
said  in  the  preceding-  paragraph.  It  is  a 
great     mistake     to     sujipose     that     the 
trenchant   statements   in  three   or   four 
w^ords   frequently   found   at  the   begin- 
ning- of  ]\Iacaulay"s  paragraphs  are  sub- 
ject-sentences. This  is  a  mannerism  of 
Macaulay's.  the  object  of  which  will  be 
spoken  of  in  a  future  chapter. 
C.    Sometimes  the  subject-sentence  does  not 
appear  till  near  the  close,  or  at  the  close 
of  a  paragraph.     In  the  paragraph  of  six 
hundred  words,  or  fifty-five  lines,  in  Chap- 
ter 12,  beginning,  "Meanwhile  Mountjoy 
and  Rice.  ..."  the  topic  is  Lewis's  and 
Louvois's  opinions  of  James's  wishes.  The 
subject-sentence   does  not   appear  till   the 
fortieth    line.      Thus:      "Such    were    the 
sentiments  of  Lewis,  and  in  those  senti- 
ments he  was  confirmed  b\-  his  minister  of 
war,  Louvois.    .    .    ."' 

The   remaining  fifteen    lines   are   given 
up  to  the  opinions  of  Louis, 


47 


10.    Repeated  Structure. 

It  is  to  be  expected  that  a  writer  like  ]\Ia- 
caulay.  who  lays  such  stress  on  clearness, 
would  indulge  freely  in  repeated  structure. 
In  truth,  much  of  the  clearness  and  force  for 
which  he  is  justly  famous  is  due  to  this  very 
device.  He  subtly  stamps  an  idea  on  the  mind 
bv  rq^eating  it  in  more  lucid  language ;  he 
makes  a  picture  vivid  by  gradually  unfolding 
its  beauties  or  its  horrors. 

"A  few  hours  before  the  execution  of  the 
chief  conspirators,  a  general  muster  of  the 
army  was  held ;  and  it  zcas  observed  that  the 
ranks  of  the  English  battalions  looked  thin. 
From  the  first  day  of  the  campaign,  there  had 
been  much  sickness  among  the  recruits;  but  it 
was  not  till  the  time  of  the  equinox  that  the 
mortality  became  alarming.  The  autumnal 
rains  of  Ireland  are  usually  heavy;  and  this 
year  they  were  heavier  than  usual.  The  whole 
country  was  deluged :  and  the  Duke's  camp 
became  a  marsh.  The  Enniskillen  men  i^'cre 
seasoned  to  the  climate.  The  Dutch  were  ac- 
customed to  live  in  a  countrs'  which,  as  a  wit  of 
that  age  said,  draws  fifty  feet  of  water.  They 
kept  their  huts  dry  and  clean ;  and  they  had 
exi>erienced  and  careful  officers  who  did  not 
suffer  tliem  to  omit  any  precaution.  Rut  the 
peasants   of   Yorkshire    and    Derbyshire   had 

48 


neitlicr  constitutions  prepared  to  resist  the 
pernicious  influence  nor  skill  to  protect  them- 
sehes  against  it.  The  bad  provisions  furnished 
!)}•  tlic  commissariat  aggravated  the  maladies 
generated  by  tJic  air.  Remedies  were  almost 
entirely  wanting.  The  surgeons  were  few.  The 
metlicine  chest  contained  little  more  than  lint 
and  i)lastcrs  for  wounds.  The  English  sickened 
and  died  by  hundreds.  Even  those  who  were 
not  smitten  ])y  the  pestilence  were  unnerved 
and  dejected,  and.  instead  of  putting  forth  the 
energy  which  is  the  heritage  of  our  race, 
aieaited  tlieir  fate  with  the  helpless  apathy  of 
.■Lsiaties."    Schomberg  in  Ireland,  ch.  14. 

In  this  passage  several  things  are  note- 
worthy :  (1 )  The  first  sentence  suggests  that 
there  is  something  wrong  in  the  English  ranks. 
(2)  the  epithets  for  "something  wrong"  grad- 
ually get  stronger  and  stronger — "sickness." 
"mortality  and  alarm,"  "suffering,"  "pernicious 
influence,"  ''malady  generated  by  the  air," 
"pestilence,"  "death,"  "men  awaiting  their 
fate  with  the  helpless  apathy  of  Asiatics."  (3) 
All  this  is  an  amplification  of  the  phrase, 
"something  wrong."  The  picture  at  fTrst  sug- 
gested is  gradually  unfolded.  (4)  The  eft'ect 
is  heightened  by  contrasting  the  English  with 
the  Enniskillcns  and  Dutch. 

Those  parts  of  the  History  which  call  for 

40 


a  display  of  imagination  are  full  of  repeated 
structure,  as  various  in  form  as  it  is  impressive 
and  full  of  light.  In  the  subtlety  with  which 
he  leads  the  reader  into  the  midst  of  such 
scenes  as  we  have  been  studying,  by  a  way 
which  is  gradual  and  of  deepest  impress,  Ma- 
caulay  is  as  masterly  as  he  is  in  more  con- 
spicuous artifices. 
11.    Selection,  Proportion,  Variety. 

There  are  three  criteria  for  the  judgment 
of  a  man's  literary  capacity  or  capability : 
First,  his  choice  of  material,  the  items  he 
selects  for  a  desired  effect ;  second,  the  place 
and  prominence  he  gives  to  each  item ;  third, 
his  manner  of  varying  the  shades  of  thought 
and  forms  of  expression.  When  Macanlay  is 
at  his  best,  no  one  will  better  stand  the  test  of 
these  criteria.  His  success  was  due,  first,  to 
his  resourcefulness ;  second,  to  his  untiring 
care. 

It  is  pleasurable  to  study  one  of  the  best 
specimens  of  his  art.  The  following  repre- 
sentation of  English  ignorance  of  the  beauties 
of  the  Highlands  is  found  in  Vol.  Ill,  p.  274, 
ch.  13: 

1  "beauties  of  nature.  A  traveller  must  be 
freed  from  all  apprehension  of  being  mur- 
dered or  starved  before  he  can  be  charmed 

2  b\  the  bold  outlines  and  rich  tints  of  the 

r.o 


lulls.  He  is  not  likely  to  be  thrown  into 
ecstasies  by  the  abruptness  of  a  precipice 
from  which  he  is  in  imminent  danger  of 
falling  two  thousand  feet  perpendicular  ;  by 
the  boiling  waves  of  a  torrent  which  sud- 
denly whirls  away  his  baggage  and  forces 
him  to  run  for  his  life,  by  the  gloomy 
grandeur  of  a  pass  where  he  finds  a  corpse 
which  marauders  have  just  stripped  and 
mangled  ;  or  by  the  screams  of  those  eagles 
whose  next  meal  may  probably  be  on  his 
own  eyes.  About  the  year  1730,  Captain 
Burt,  one  of  the  first  Englishmen  who 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  spots  which  now 
allure  fourisfs  from  every  part  of  the  civil- 
ized world,  wrote  an  account  of  his  wan- 
derings. He  was  evidently  a  man  of  a 
quick,  an  observant  and  a  cultivated  mind, 
and  would  doubtless,  had  he  lived  in  our 
age,  have  looked  with  mingled  awe  and  de- 
light on  the  iiwitiifains  of  Invernessshire. 
But,  writing  with  the  feeling  which  was  uni- 
versal in  his  own  age,  he  pronounced  those 
mountains  monstrous  excrescences.  Their 
deformity,  he  said,  was  such  that  the  most 
sterile  plains  seemed  lovely  by  comparison. 
Fine  weather,  he  complained,  only  made 
bad  worse ;  for,  the  clearer  the  day,  the 
more     disagreeably    did    those    missha[:en 

51 


masses  of  gloomy  brown  and  dirty  purple 

8  affect  the  eye.     What    a    contrast,  he  ex- 

9  claimed,  between  these  horrible  prospects 
and  the  beauties  of  Richmond  Hill!  Some 
persons  may  think  that  Burt  was  a  man  of 
vulgar  and  prosaical  mind ;  but  they  will 
scarcely  venture  to  pass  a  similar  judgment 

10  on  Oliver  Goldsmith.  Goldsmith  was  one 
of  the  very  Saxons  who,  more  than  a  cen- 

11  tury  ago,  ventured  to  explore  the  High- 
lands. He  was  disgusted  by  the  hideous 
zalderuess.  and  declared  that  he  greatly 
preferred  the  charming  country  around 
Ley  den,  the  vast  expanse  of  verdant 
meadow  and  the  villas  with  their  statues  and 

12  grottoes,  trim  flower  beds,  and  rectilinear 
avenues.  Yet  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
the  author  of  tJie  Traveller  and  of  the  De- 
serted Village  was  naturally  inferior  in 
taste  and  sensibility  to  the  thousands  of 
clerks  and  inillincrs  wdio  are  now  thrown 
into  raptures  by  the  sight  of  Loch  Katrine 

\3.and  Loch  Lomond.  His  feelings  may  easily 
14  be  explained.  It  was  not  till  roads  had  been 
cut  out  of  the  rocks,  till  bridges  had  been 
flung  oi'cr  the  courses  of  the  rizmlets,  till 
inns  had  succeeded  to  dens  of  robbers,  till 
there  zvas  as  little  danger  of  being  slain  or 
plundered  in  the  wildest  defile  of  Badenoch 


52 


or  Lochabcr  as  in  Cornhill,  that  strangers 
could  he  enchanted  by  the  blue  dimples  of 
the  lakes  and  by  the  rainbozvs  zvhich  over- 
hung the  zcaterfalls,  and  could  derive  a 
solemn  pleasure  even  from  the  clouds  and 
tempests  which  lowered  on  the  mountain 
tops." 
The  two  parts  of  sentences  are  amplified 
in  last  sentence. 

Alacaulay  obtains  his  efifects  in  this  para- 
graph by  repetition  and  contrast. 

First,  let  us  consider  the  repetition.  Having 
previously  given  a  grand  description  of  the 
Highlands,  he  writes  his  subject-sentence  thus : 
"A  traveller  must  be  freed  from  all  apprehen- 
sion of  being  murdered  or  starved  before  he 
can  be  charmed  by  the  bold  outlines  and  rich 
tints  of  the  hills."  This  thought  is  repeated, 
intensified,  and  stamped  indelibly  upon  the 
mind  in  the  next  sentence.  Then  it  is,  seem- 
ingly, kept  in  abeyance  until  the  closing  sen- 
tence, when  it  is  repeated  and  emphasized  in 
an  imaginative  flight  rivaling  any  of  the  gor- 
geous imagery  with  which  Burke  was  wont  to 
close  his  paragraphs. 

Next  let  us  consider  the  contrasts.  The  sec- 
ond sentence  contains  a  series  of  them.  Con- 
trasts are  also  made  between  the  "horrible 
prospects"   and   Richmond   Hill ;   between   the 

53 


"hideous  wilderness"  and  Leyden ;  between 
the  "wild  defiles"  and  Cornhill ;  between  places 
of  allurement  for  modern  tourists  and  the  "dis- 
oust"  of  Burt  and  Goldsmith ;  between  the 
plain  statement  of  the  subject  in  the  first  sen- 
tence and  the  "mingled  awe  and  delight"  in- 
spired by  its  full  emphatic  statement  in  the  last 
sentence.  Mainly  through  the  devices  of  con- 
trast and  repetition,  then,  this  exaltation  of 
mind  is  obtained. 

If   we   look   a   little   closely   at   the  passage 
quoted  we  shall  see  : 

( 1 )  That  selection  is  exercised  in  the  ma- 
terials used  to  impress  the  one  thought, 
and  to  convince  the  mind  of  its  truthful- 
ness. In  the  first  two  sentences  Alacaulay 
introduces  the  thought  and  expands  it. 
He  next  shows  how  the  travelers  of  1790 
dififered  from  the  tourists  of  recent  years 
in  their  opinions  of  the  Highlands,  after 
which  he  proves  that  some  at  least  of  the 
early  travelers  were  men  of  acknowledged 
taste.  For  surely  a  Goldsmith  was  not 
inferior  in  taste  to  the  modern  tourist. 
Hence,  Macaulay  concludes  that  popular 
opinion  of  the  Highlands  in  1790  was 
biased  by  fear  of  the  Highlanders,  \\diilc 
Macaulay  is  convincing  our  reason  by  this 
specious  argument,  he  adroitly  manneuvers 

54 


to  beguile  our  imagination  through   pic- 
tures of  mingled  awe  and  delight. 

(2)  That  due  attention  is  paid  to  spacing 
and  to  the  prominence  which  each  item 
deserves.  The  quotation  is  divisible  into 
four  sections:  (a)  from  the  subject-sen- 
tence to  the  instance  of  Captain  Burt ; 
(b)  the  instance  of  Captain  Burt;  (c) 
the  instance  of  Goldsmith;  (d)  conclusion 
of  these  four  sections  (a)  and  (d)  are 
much  the  same,  except  that  in  the  long  sen- 
tence of  (a)  emphasis  is  everywhere  given 
to  the  terror  inspired  by  the  Highlands ; 
in  (d)  the  emphasis  is  placed  on  their 
wdld  beauty.  Sections  (b)  and  (c),  on 
Burt  and  Goldsmith  are  meant  only  to 
illustrate  and  prove  the  view  stated  in 
(a)  and  enforced  so  confidently  by  a  final 
appeal  to  reason  and  imagination  in  (d). 

(3)  That  in  the  quotation  there  is  every 
element  of  variety.  Mingled  wnth  the  im- 
aginative sentences  are  terse  ones  which 
show  that  Macaulay  can  say  a  "plain 
thing  plainly"*  as  well  as  a  "fine  thing 
finely.''  Everywhere  there  is  exhibited  a 
delicate  sense  of  language.  Language 
and  feeling  go  hand  in  hand  thus : 
"Abruptness    of    a    precipice,"    "gloomy 


*See  what  Macaulay  says  on  Tacit  us  in  liis  Essay 
on   History. 

65 


grandeur,"  "mountains  monstrous  ex- 
crescences," "misshapen  masses  of  gloomy 
brown  and  dirty  purple,"  "horrible  pros- 
pects," and  "trim  flower  beds,"  "recti- 
linear avenues,"  "enchanted  by  the  blue 
dimples  of  the  sky,"  "solemn  pleasure  even 
from  the  clouds."  In  choice  of  material, 
in  placing  of  material  and  in  variety  of 
expression  Macaulay  is  among  the  best 
writers :  for  the  adaptation  of  structure 
to  thought  is  everywhere  the  crowning 
quality  of  the  great  masters. 


Be 


CHAPTER  III 

NARRATION 


Mdcaiilay's  Manner  in  General. 

(a)  History  as  a  form  of  literature  has 
to  do  with  many  forms  of  writing, — nar- 
ration, description,  exposition,  argument. 

(b)  But,  because  it  has  to  do.  for  the  most 
part,  with  events  chronologically  stated,  it 
is  mostly  narration. 

(c)  (1)  In  studying  Macaulay's  narra- 
tive work  we  are  not  concerned  with 
the  final  position  of  the  History  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  It  is  necessary,  how- 
ever, to  remember  that  his  ideal  was  to 
cast  historical  material  into  that  form 
of  literature  called  the  novel.  He  has, 
therefore,  after  the  fashion  of  novelists, 
grouped  all  his  events  around  two  great 
characters — James  and  William — the 
one  representing  to  him  the  evil  force  in 
English  politics,  the  other  the  force 
making  for  good, — law,  liberty,  order 
and  good  government.  In  the  narra- 
tion the  events  all  have  to  do,  directly 

57 


or  indirectly,  with  these  two  men,  who 
never  disappear  from  si^ht.  Whether  the 
events  concern  the  people  or  the  gov- 
ernment, all  point  towards  James  and 
William.  The  stream  of  events  always 
touches  the  one  or  the  other. 
(2)  The  period  of  time  covered  in  the 
narrative  is  fifteen  years.  The  task 
Macanlay  set  for  himself, — to  mass  in 
the  form  of  a  novel  with  W^illiam  and 
James  as  its  chief  characters  all  the 
events  pertaining  to  the  people  and  the 
government, — necessitated  a  most  com- 
plex narrative.  All  the  events,  though 
they  have  more  or  less  to  do  with  the 
kings,  have  also  to  do  with  England, 
Ireland,  Scotland,  France,  Holland,  or 
the  departments  of  state,  or  society,  or 
individuals  of  greater  or  lesser  ]:)romi- 
nence  in  letters,  government  or  war. 
Accordingly,  though  the  main  narrative 
has  to  do  with  kings,  there  are  innum- 
erahle  subsidiary  narratives.  Still  all 
these  converge  upon  the  main  narra- 
tive ;  and  the  History,  a  torso  though 
it  be  of  the  plan  set  forth  in  his  intro- 
duction, is,  considered  by  itself,  a  unit. 
The  word  narrative  is  really  inadequate 
to  describe  the  History.    It  is  composed 

58 


of  many  narratives,  some  j)ile(l  one 
upon  the  other  hke  strata,  sometimes 
playing  against  one  another,  criss-cro^s- 
mg,  yet  ahvays  promoting  the  main  in- 
terest centered  in  the  kings.  Macanhv 
had  a  wonderful  gift  for  carrying  on 
the  different  threads  of  narration,  with- 
out tangling  them ;  always  clear,  he 
always  stimulates,  always  makes  the 
reader's  interest  keener  and  keener  in 
the  kings,  their  characters,  acts,  and  the 
principles  they  represented. 
(  d )  The  narrative  work  may  be  put  under 
three  heads,  according  to  subject. 

(1)  The  History  as  a  whole,  the  sub- 
ject of  which  is  the  events  connected 
with  James  and  William. 

(2)  By  chapters,  the  subjects  of  which 
vary  according  to  place  or  time.  They 
concern  Scotland,  Ireland,  England, 
France,  Holland  according  to  the 
time  in  the  narrative,  or,  in  other 
words,  according  to  the  progress  of 
events. 

(3)  By  parts  of  chapters.  These  vary 
according  to  the  concern  which  an  in- 
dividual or  party  or  section  of  the 
country  may  have  in  the  division  of 
the  main  subject  of  which  the  chapter 
treats. 

50 


Everywhere  unity  of  main  or  sub- 
sidiary narrative  is  preserved  as  at- 
tention is  paid  to  the  sequence  of 
events,  and  interest  is  stimulated — 
sometimes,  indeed,  "till  stimulus  loses 
its  force." 

2.     Condensed  Navratk'e  and  Amplified  Nar- 
rative. 

(a)  The  narrative  is  short  or  long  accord- 
ing as  the  historian  conceived  an  event  or 
series  of  events  to  be  of  greater  or  lesser 
importance., 

(b)  From  this  come  two  kinds  of  narra- 
tive— condensed  and  amplified.  Con- 
densed narrative  consists  of  from  one  to 
three  paragraphs  in  which  are  cast  events 
selected  from  a  large  group  which  might 
otherwise  have  made  a  long  narrative. 
It  is  as  if  the  historian  were  compelled  by 
self-imposed  limits  of  space  to  exercise 
choice  and  condense  his  statement  into  the 
smallest  number  of  paragraphs.  Amplified 
narrative,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  in 
which  the  historian  seems  to  have  felt 
himself  at  liberty  to  develop  his.  subject 
with  extreme  fulness. 

(c)  Use  of  condensed  narration. 
Macaulay  had  admirable  power  in  short- 

enina"  or  lencthening  his  narrative  to  suit 


his  special  purpose.  Yet,  whether  he 
works  within  a  narrow  or  a  wide  compass, 
he  seldom  lets  his  narrative  become  un- 
£;ainly.  His  condensed  narrative  is  as  ad- 
miralile  in  its  way  as  his  amplified  narra- 
tive. He  was  n(^t  less  artful  in  massing' 
his  material  than  in  spreadinj^'  it  over  a 
lono-  series  of  paragraphs.  Neither  form 
is  tawdry,  rather  is  each  in  its  kind  lively 
and  impressive.  In  condensed  narration 
Macaulay  bunches  events  into  one.  two,  or 
three  paragraphs. 

( 1 )  Condensed  narration  in  one  para- 
graph. 

See  1.  The  storv  of  the  convers- 
ion of  William  Sher- 
lock, told  in  a  single 
narrative  paragraph  of 
one  and  a  half  pages. 
IV.  150-152,  Ch.  V. 

See  2.  Ill-atTection  of  clergy  for 
the  king.  Ill,  428-430, 
Ch.  14. 

(2)  Condensed  narrative  in  two  para- 
graphs. These  jiaragraphs  may  be 
long  or  short  to  suit  the  occasion. 
The  short  ones  have  a  staccato  ef- 
fect ;  the  long  drawn  out  paragraphs 
are  more  graphic  and  pleasurable, 

61 


See  1.  For  long  paragraphs,  the 
state  of  Ireland  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution, 
the  second  and  third 
paragraphs  of  chapter 
12. 

See  2.     For  short  paragraphs :  Go- 
dolphin  retires,  III.  490. 
Ch.  15. 
(3)      Condensed     narrative     in     three 
paragraphs. 

1.  The    meeting    of    the    English 
regiments.     III.  45-49,  Ch.  2. 

2.  William's  foreign  favourites. 
III.  63-66.  Ch.  2.' 

(d)     Use  of  amplified  narrative. 

(1)  Something  of  ]\Iacaulay's  power  in 
biographical  and  historical  narration 
had  been  known  from  his  essays,  but  the 
fulness  of  this  power  was  not  known 
until  the  publication  of  the  History. 
The  variety  in  the  length  of  his  ampli- 
fied narrative,  on  a  single  subject, 
ranges  from  three  to  one  hundred  and 
one  paragraphs.  He  seldom  goes  be- 
yond a  hundred  paragraphs  and  there 
-are, but  a  few  examples  of  a  hundred 
paragraphs  on  a  single  subject.  Also, 
though  his  amplified  narrative  may  he 

62 


more  or  less  continuous  throuj;h  from 
four  to  seventy-five  paragraphs,  it  is 
usually  broken  intermittently  by  descrip- 
tion or  exposition  or  argunicnt.  This  is 
due  to  the  very  nature  of  historical  com- 
position. It  is  therefore  difficult  to  cite 
very  long  examples  of  ])ure  narration. 
(2)  .\mi)lified  narration  varies  in  num- 
ber and  size  of  paragraphs  according  to 
the  importance  of  the  subject. 
Thus : 

1.  The  king's  attitude  towards  the 
banished  Huguenots.  II.  78-82, 
Ch.  6,  four  paragraphs,  two  long, 
two  medium.  The  subject  is  con- 
nected, with  both  the  preceding 
and  following  subjects,  bv  the 
echo. 

2.  The  events  leading  to  the  turn- 
ing of  the  Queen  of  James  to  the 
Jesuits.  II.  72-76.  ch.  6.  Ten 
paragraphs.  Gradual  rise  into 
two  grand  paragraphs  of  one 
and  a  quarter  pages  each. 

3.  James  and  Scotland.  I.  446- 
453,  ch.  4.  Eleven  paragraphs, 
mixed,  medium  and  long. 

4.  James"  first  parliament.  I.  459- 
71.  ch.  4.  Twenty-six  paragraphs, 

63 


following  the  general  order  of 
wave  movement  of  paragraphs 
in  Macaulay. 

3.     Movement  of  Paragraphs  in  Narration. 

The  best  means  of  learning  how  methodical 
Macaulay  can  be  in  uninterrupted  narrative  is 
to  study  the  mechanism  of  a  representative 
passage.  Such  a  passage  is  the  second  half  of 
chapter  9,  on  the  Coming,  Arrival,  and  Prog- 
ress of  William,  and  the  Acts  of  James  from 
that  time  till  his  abdication. 

In  the  hundred  and  one  paragraphs  of  this 
passage  the  following  points  are  noticeable : 

1 .  The  paragraphs  vary  in  length  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  principle  of  wave-move- 
ment mentioned  in  chapter  1  of  this  paper. 

2.  The  ratio  of  paragraphs  to  page  101  :68, 
exemplifies  the  modern  practice  of  making 
the  average  paragraph  less  than  a  page. 

3.  In  the  first  part  (William's  coming,  prog- 
ress, arrival,  thirty-six  paragraphs,  II, 
427-450).  the  interest  is  intentionally  cen- 
tered: (1)  in  the  efifect  of  William's  ar- 
rival on  Devonshire  (see  grand  paragraph 
of  three  and  a  half  pages,  437-441)  ;  and 
(2)  in  the  effect  on  London,  narrated  in 
a  grand  paragraph  of  one  and  a  half 
]~>ages.  443-4-14. 

4.  In  the  second  part  (acts  of  James  up  to 

64 


the  time  of  his  escape,  sixty-five  para- 
graphs. II.  450-494).  the  paragraphs 
mostly  of  moderate  length,  are  marie  to 
move  rapidly  towards  the  most  important 
event, — the  flight.  The  grand  paragraphs 
of  one  to  one  and  a  half  pages  each,  to- 
wards the  close  of  the  chapter,  relate  the 
details  of  the  flight. 

4.    Rci-crtiii<^r  Narrative. 

By  this  is  meant  the  narration  of  certain 
early  portions  of  the  story  after  the  main 
action  has  been  carried  on  awhile.'''  This  is  a 
common  device  of  epic  poets  and  novelists. 
Macaulay  has  used  it  many  times  in  his  His- 
tory. 

See  1.  The  History  of  the  Xational  Debt, 
l\\  390-401.  ch.  19.  Here  the  great 
writer,  having  brought  his  History  up  to 
the  point  when  a  national  debt  became 
necessary,  turns  back  to  recount  the 
events  which  led  Parliament  to  the  deci- 
sion to  contract  such  a  debt. 
See  2.  Debates  upon  the  trade  with  India, 
IW  221-234,  ch.  18,  and  I\',  384,  ch.  19. 
Here  Macaulay.  having  carried  the  main 
narrative  up  to  the  time  when  the  de- 
bates began  in  Parliament,  turns  back  to 


*.J.  :a.  Hart's  Handbook  of  Eng.  ("omp.  P.  4S. 
65 


Of    THE 

UNIVERSITY 


relate  the  history  of  the  trade  from  EHza- 
beth's  time  onwards. 

5.    Otfcrlapp'mg  Narrative. 

Macaulay,  who  had  so  many  groups  of  char- 
acters to  hnk  together,  and  whose  ideal  was  to 
make  his  personages  move  and  to  inspire  in- 
terest in  them  after  the  fashion  of  his  favour- 
ites. Jane  Austen  and  Maria  Edgeworth,  in 
their  novels,  naturally  used  the  same  expedients 
for  carrying  on  the  simultaneous  action  of  his 
several  groups.  That  is  to  say,  he  used  what 
is  technically  called  Overlapping  Narrative. 

There  are  many  examples  in  the  History. 
One  will  suffice  to  illustrate  the  use  of  the 
artifice: 

Between  157-166,  Y.  IV.  ch.  17,  ?^lacaulay 
has  been  speaking  of  the  ]ilot  of  Russell.  Go- 
dolphin  and  Marlborough  against  William.  He 
concludes  thus  :  "But  he  (Marlborough)  had 
otJicr  objects  which  neither  Russell  nor  Go- 
dolphin  had  ever  contemplated.  There  is,  as 
zve  shall  see,  strong  reason  to  believe  that  this 
wise,  brave,  wicked  man  was  meditating  a 
plan  .  .  .  (which)  would  have  ruined  Wil- 
liam without  benefiting  James,  and  would  have 
made  the  successful  traitor  master  of  England 
and  arbiter  of  Europe."  The  main  narrative, 
on  the  war  in  Ireland  and  the  acts  of  Parlia- 
ment assembled,  is  then  carried  on  for  eighty- 

06 


three  pages ;  that  is.  through  the  reniainder 
of  chapter  17  and  the  first  quarter  of  chap- 
ter IS.  Suddenly  the  heginning  of  the  narra- 
tive of  the  plot  of  Marlborough  is  announced 
in  a  link,  thus  : 

"It  is  certain  that  those  who  in  the  confer- 
ence on  this  bill  represented  the  Commons  did 
not  exaggerate  the  dangers  to  which  the  gov- 
ernment was  exposed.  While  the  constitution 
of  the  court  which  was  to  try  peers  for  treason 
was  under  discussion,  a  treason  planned  with 
rare  skill  by  a  peer  was  all  but  carried  into  ex- 
ecution. 

"Marlborough  had  never  never  ceased  to  as- 
sure the  Court  of  Saint  Germains  that  the 
great  crime  which  he  had  committed  was  con- 
stantly present  to  his  thoughts,  and  that  he 
lived  only  for  the  purpose  of  .  .  ." 
6.    Digression. 

(a)  The  meaning  of  digression  is  plain. 
Digression  is  the  introduction  of  matter 
into  a  narrative  having  no  direct  connec- 
tion with  that  narrative.  ^lacaulay  in- 
dulges in  digression  for  two  reasons  :  ( 1 ) 
to  utilize  material  that  could  not  other- 
wise be  used;  (2)  to  clear  up  some  point 
or  points  in  the  main  narrative. 

On  1.  See:  The  account  of  George 
Fox  and  his  following.  I\',  132-138, 
ch.  17. 

67 


On  2.     See  :    "Of  the  manner  in  which 
such  a  bid  should  have  been  framed," 
IV,  407-410.  ch.  19. 
(b)    Usually    Macaulay's     dig^ressions    are 
justifiable,   and   they    are    carefully   con- 
nected with  the  main  narrative  by  means 
of  the  link-paragraph.     There  are  cases^ 
however,  where  the  digression  is  appar- 
ently due  to  the  mere  wish  to  communicate 
something  out  of  the  fulness  of  his  knowl- 
edge. 
See  1 :    His  statements  on  the  rise,  prog- 
ress  and   decline    of     Parliamentary 
corruption  in  England.  III.  484-489, 
ch.  15. 
See   2 :     Remarks    on    politics     in     the 
reigns  of  George  III  and  George  IV, 
IV,  220-221,  ch.  18. 

7.    Episode. 

Episode,  deviation  from  the  main  narrative 
to  tell  a  pointed  story  or  relate  a  pleasing  in- 
cident, another  artifice  of  the  novelists  and  epic 
poets,  is  once  and  again  found  in  the  History. 
Thus : 

1.  Macaulay  diversifies  the  narrative 
of  the  angry  debates  of  Parliament 
at  the  beginning  of  chapter  15  with 
two  short  episodes.  The  first  is  on 
the  reception  of  Walker  in  London 

68 


(see  chajjter  15,  paragraph  10).  The 
second  is  on  Edmund  Eudlow,  chap- 
ter 15.  paragraph  13.  The  first  of 
these  is  called  "a  pleasing  incident" ; 
the  second,  "another  curious  and  in- 
teresting episode." 
2.  A  long",  comparatively  dry  account 
of  Parliamentary  legislation,  IV,  ZZ7- 
381,  ch.  19,  is  diversified  hy  relating 
the  episode  of  the  murder  of  an  actor 
by  Lord  Mohun,  381-384.  The  inci- 
dent is  introduced  as  follows: 

in  the  course  of  the  session 
an  event  took  place  .  .  .  which 
well  deserves  to  be  recorded  as  a 
striking  illustration  of  the  state  of 
manners  and  morals  in  that  age." 

8.    Intercalated  Narrative. 

A  born  raconteur  like  Macaulay.  impatient 
because  brilliant,  could  not  at  times  refrain 
from  a  hasty  glance  into  the  future,  dashing 
ofif  a  striking  bit  of  narrative  by  way  of  satis- 
faction and  inserting  the  tid-bit  in  the  main 
narrative,  in  disregard  of  the  normal  sequence 
of  events.  Such  striking  narrative,  technically 
called  intercalated  narrative,  is  sometimes 
found  in  the  History. 

A  notable  example  is  the  pictorial  narrative 
of  the  efifect  j^roduced  on  Anne  and  her  house- 

69 


hold  by  the  government's  proposition  to  put 
her  on  the  Civil  List  with  an  arniuity  of  20.000 
pounds.  III.  500-506,  ch.  15.  The  proposition 
is  made  by  Macaulay  the  occasion  for  telling 
the  story  of  Lady  Marlborough's  influence  over 
Anne.  The  insertion,  wholly  uncalled  for  in 
this  part  of  the  History,  we  may  safely  regard 
as  the  precursor  of  Macaulay's  projected  but 
unwritten  history  of  the  reign  of  Anne. 

9.    Mixed  Narration  and  Description. 

(a)  Frequently  we  find  an  historical  pas- 
sage which,  in  its  relation  to  events  or 
phenomena,  has  the  order  of  time,  or 
cause  and  efifect,  but  details  of  which  are 
descriptive  of  some  person  or  thing.  Such 
a  passage  is  called  mixed  narration  and 
description.  Macaulay  abounds  in  such 
passages.  They  may  consist  of  one  para- 
graph or  many. 

(b)  Alacaulay's  use  of  mixed  narration  and 
description. 

1.  In  one  long  paragraph. 

See :    Sir  James  Dalrymple  of  Stair, 

III,  242-244,  ch.  13. 
And,  the  haggling  of  the  ambassadors 

before  the  treaty  of  Ryswick.  V, 

232-235,  ch.  23. 

2.  In  three  paragraphs. 

See :   James's  public  exhibition  of  his 

70 


Catholicism,  1,  426-429.  ch.  4. 
3.    In    12   paragraphs   of   lively   move- 
ment. 
See:    The    Progress    of    James,    III, 

160-166,  ch.  12. 

10.    Mixed  Exposition  and  Narration. 

Yet  another  narrative  form  is  found  in  the 
History  ;  that  is,  narration  mixed  with  exposi- 
tion. It  is  not  always  necessary  for  an  his- 
torian to  find  causes  for  the  effects  which  he 
has  observed,  nor  to  explain  situations,  nor  to 
trace  the  motives  for  action ;  sometimes,  in- 
deed, it  is  not  possible ;  nevertheless  ^^lacaulay 
contrives  to  mix  with  his  narrative  much  ex- 
position. JNIany  passages  might  be  cited  in 
which  his  aim  is  evidently  to  narrate,  in  which 
there  is  a  clearly  discernible  thread  of  narra- 
tion running  from  beginning  to  end,  yet  in 
which  there  is  so  much  of  explanation,  or 
formulation  of  principle,  or  statement  of  what 
seems  to  him  to  be  the  truth  in  opposition  to 
the  opinion  of  party  or  sect,  that  no  better 
term  can  be  given  to  such  passages  than  mixed 
exposition  and  narration. 
Far  example : 

I.  In  the  "Debate  on  the  State  of  the 
Nation,"  II,  558-562,  ch.  10,  there  is 
much  explanation  of  party  opinion,  yet 
criticism     of     political     doctrine,     etc. 

71 


Macaulay's  object  was  undoubtedly  to 
narrate  events  then  happening  in  Par- 
liament. 
2.    L  528-530,  ch.  5,  is  a  narration  of  the 
progress   of    ]Monmouth.      But   an    ex- 
position of  Whig  doctrine  is  run   into 
the  narrative. 
In  concluding  this  section  the  following  ex- 
planation  may   be   suggested    for   Alacaulay's 
mixture   of   rhetorical    forms. — narration    and 
description,   exposition  and  narration.      First, 
his  mixture  of  narration  and  description  may 
be  regarded  as  an  artifice  borrowed  from  the 
novelists,  who  embellish  their  narratives  with 
descriptions  of  animate  and  inanimate  objects, 
captivating  their  readers  with  lively  pictures 
of  men  and  nature.     Second,  his  mixture  of 
exposition  and  narration — that  is,  his  summary 
statement  of  doctrine,   formulation  of  princi- 
ple, etc. — have  some  resemblance  to  the  moral- 
izings  of  the  novelists.     In  short,  the  above- 
mentioned    forms    are    part    of    the  garb    of 
fiction   wdth   which   ]\lacaulay   aimed   to   dress 
his  History. 


72 


CHAPTER  IV 

DESCRIPTION 


Macaiilay's  Manner. 

A.  His  theory. 

In  description,  no  less  than  in  narration, 
IMacaulay  endeavored  to  carry  out  his  ideal 
of  perfection  in  historical  writing.  History, 
he  believed,  in  its  state  of  imaginary  per- 
fection, should  "impress  great  truths  on  the 
mind  by  a  vivid  representation  of  particular 
characters  and  incidents.  By  "particular 
characters  and  incidents"  he  meant  the  lumi- 
nous description  of  men  and  places.  He 
would  utilize  in  history  that  graphic  de- 
scription of  character,  that  pictorial  hue  and 
shade  in  place-description  which  had  made 
the  great  novelists  famous.  In  a  word,  as 
an  historian,  he  would  catch  the  spirit  of 
the  novelists  in  the  color,  form  and  incident 
of  their  description,  as  well  as  in  lively  nar- 
ration. 

B.  Difference    between    description    in    ihc 
novel  and  in  history. 

But  there  were  limits  to  Macaulay's  power 

73 


to  borrow  the  devices  of  the  novelists  in  de- 
scription. The  novehst  creates  such  char- 
acters as  he  wishes,  and  may  describe  ideal 
or  real  situations  or  places.  As  long  as  he 
is  true  to  human  nature  in  character-descrip- 
tion, as  long-  as  his  place-description  has  k 
semblance  of  reality,  he  is  not  open  to  criti- 
cism in  these  two  points.  The  historian,  on 
the  other  hand,  imit-ite  the  novelists  as  he 
may,  is  restricted  to  historical  fact.  He  may 
not  create  his  characters ;  they  exist  already. 
The  places  and  scenes  in  history,  likewise, 
are  not  the  product  of  the  imagination. 
Xevertherless.  the  historian  may  approach 
the  novelist  in  the  sheen,  the  color,  the  live- 
liness of  his  portraiture  of  persons  who  have 
actually  lived,  or  in  recasting  before  his 
readers  scenes  in  the  drama  of  history,  or 
else  in  sketching  or  painting  places  where 
the  characters  acted  or  where  events  took 
place.  If  the  historian  is.  in  his  imitation, 
approximate  to  the  best  work  of  the  novelist, 
he  must  be  greater  in  his  descriptive  gifts, 
because  of  the  vast  number  of  places  and 
characters  to  be  described,  and  the  necessity 
of  adhering  to  fact.  Macaulay  knew  this 
and  expressed  his  knowledge  of  the  fact  in 
the  close  of  his  essay  on  History.  Never- 
theless, it  is  obvious  that  in  his  History  he 

74 


strenuously  endeavored  to  carry  out  his 
ideal,  not  only  in  narrative  of  events,  htu  in 
description  of  character,  place  and  scene. 

C.    Macaulay's  description  in  general. 

(a)    His  great  abilities  in  certain   kinds 
of  description. 

1.  His  love  of  movement.  He  revels  in 
gorgeous  pageants,  movements  of 
armies  and  processions.  He  has  no 
liking  for  description  of  still  life. 

2.  There  is  a  very  strong  pathetic  ele- 
ment in  the  History.  See:  Mary's 
death,  IV,  180.  The  severe  simplicity 
and  earnestness  of  this  description  is 
more  effective  than  the  most  skilled 
rhetoric.  Macaulav  abandons  the 
long,  swinging  paragraphs  ordinarily 
found  in  his  description  of  movement. 
The  subject  is  sad,  it  re(|uires  earnest- 
ness and  simplicity  of  treatment.  The 
paragraphs,  therefore,  are  short.  It  is 
to  be  noted  that  the  paragraph  I,  p. 
580,  closes  with  rare  simplicity  and 
sadness.  See  also :  Execution  of 
Argyle,  1.  504-511;  The  Trial  and 
Execution  of  Alonmouth,  T.  554-563  ; 
Death  of  Charles  H,  in  I,  3S7-3')7, 
ch.  4. 


75 


(b)    His  manner  in  these  two  kinds  of 
description. 

In  (1)  his  paragraphs  are  long,  stately, 
majestic,  in  keeping  with  the  grandeur 
of  the  subject.  See:  Pageant  of  Wil- 
liam in  Exeter,  II,  437-444 :  the  bril- 
liant reception  of  James  and  ^lary  by 
Louis  XIV  in  II,  537-541  ;  the  corona- 
tion of  William  and  Mary,  II.  115-188. 
In  (2)  the  paragraphs  are  of  short  or 
medium  length,  in  keeping  with  the 
dominant  emotion. 

Macaiilay's  Fondness  for  Description. 

A.  The-  great  writer's  strenuous  effort  to 
conform  to  his  ideal  has  been  remarked 
upon  ;  it  is  exhibited  in  the  number,  vari- 
ety and  length  of  his  descriptive  passages. 
The  imagination  of  the  writer,  his  re- 
sourcefulness in  description,  condensed  or 
amplified  character-description,  scenic 
play,  beautiful  place-description,  long 
and  short  and  exceedingly  diversified  in 
coloring,  have  made  the  History  pictorial 
indeed.  There  is  hardly  a  page  in  the  His- 
tory on  which  there  is  not  some  descrip- 
tion, in  miniature,  or  unabridged  and  rich 
of  tint. 

B.  Though  Macaulay's  peculiar  gifts  of 
description    are    best    seen    in    elaborate 

76 


passages,  his  fondness  for  it  is  shown 
in  his  attempt  to  make  "pictures  in 
every  Hne."  He  accordingly  slips  in 
short  descriptive  touches  in  all  forms  of 
narration.  These  little  scenes,  character- 
and  place-descriptions,  though  (|uite  hrief 
and  intended  to  illustrate  the  narrative 
proper,  are  distinct  and  complete  in  them- 
selves. 

See  1.  Blaise  Pascal  in  the  running 
narrative  and  expository  pas- 
sage on  the  Jesuits  II.,  chap.  1. 

2.  Description     of    \"reary,     III., 

130-134.  ch.  7. 

3.  Description      of       Enniskillen, 

III.,  134-135,  ch.  7. 

Obscrz'atioiis  on  flic  Character  of  Macau- 
lay's  Description. 
A.     Macaulay    in    historical    description    is 
confined  to  characters,  places  and  scenes 
in    the    History    of    England    during    the 
fifteen  years  from  1688  to  1713.     Under 
these    circumstances    he    (lis])layed    great 
taste:   in   variety   of  color,   in   variety   of 
size;  in  the  variety  of  material  selected. 
a.    In  variety  of  color. 

Faithful  to  his  ideal  of  perfection  he 
did  not  shirk  the  description  of  good 
or    bad    characters,    magnificent    or 

77 


horrid  scenes,  attractive  or  unattrac- 
tive places  or  situations.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  make  a  bad  character  at- 
tractive ;  he  did  not  show  horrid 
scenes  which  he  felt  it  his  duty  to 
describe.  He  as  carefully  painted 
unattractive  places  as  attractive  ones. 
In  no  instance  does  he  exhibit  a  vul- 
gar or  plebean  spirit.  Throughout  all 
he  is  refined,  high-minded,  dignified. 
Even  the  casual  reader  of  the  His- 
tory is  aware  of  these  truths.  Hence 
no  citations  are  necessary. 

b.  In  variety  of  size. 

Macaulay's  descriptions  vary  in  size 
from  three  or  four  lines  to  three  or 
four  pages  octavo.  They  range 
from  a  few  suggestive  points,  thrown 
out  after  the  manner  of  Kipling  and 
other  short  story  writers,  up  to  elabo- 
rate description  embracing  all  the  sa- 
lient features  of  a  character  or  scene. 
In  compass,  therefore,  he  has  equaled 
the  short-story  writers  and  the  nov- 
elists. 

c.  In  variety  of  material. 

It  is  observable  that  the  great  Eng- 
lish novelists  afli^ect  much  sameness 
in    description    of    character,    place 

78 


and  scene.  Almost  every  novel  of 
George  Eliot,  for  example,  has  situ- 
ations, characters,  scenes,  descrip- 
tions which  are  similar  to  those  in 
her  other  novels.  Novelists  have 
their  favorite  characters,  situations, 
scenes.  But  Macaulays  gallery  of 
characters  ranges  from  empei'ors, 
kings,  ministers,  great  lords  and  l)ish- 
ops,  parliamentarians  and  scholars 
down  to  conspirators,  assassins  and 
fanatics :  to  all  he  does  even-handed 
justice  in  character-description.  In 
scene-painting  his  description  has 
called  for  the  approbation  of  critics 
and  rhetoricians.  For  movement, 
for  glitter,  excitement,  his  scenes 
have  probably  been  rivaled  by  those 
of  Carlyle.  His  place-description  in 
the  History  is  sparse,  but  adequate. 
True,  he  marks  only  the  most  notice- 
able features  of  a  land>cape  or  town ; 
but  his  descriptive  power  lends  itself 
to  whatever  is  needful  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  splendour  of  Highlands, 
the  conspicuous  features  of  a  town, 
or  the  artificial  cultivated  beauties  of 
an  English  coinitry  mansion  embos- 
omed  among   elms,   or   a    farmhouse 

79 


peeping  out   from  amongst  beehives 
and  apple  blossoms. 

B.  We  may  say :  ( 1 )  Macaulay  realized 
his  theory  of  historical  writing;  (2)  while 
for  the  most  part  remaining  true  to  the 
facts  of  history,  he  has  surpassed  the  nov- 
elists in  the  multitude  of  his  character- 
descriptions  and  in  the  variety  given  to 
character-description;  (3)  in  the  abandon 
of  his  depiction  of  pageants  he  has  seldom 
been  equaled  by  historians  and  possibly 
never  by  novelists. 

4.     Character-Description,  Frequency,    Where 
it  Occurs  and  JVhy. 

A.  Who  are  described. 

It  may  be  sai  1  in  all  truth  that  not 
only  every  person  of  prominence  in  the 
fifteen  years.  1688-1713,  is  material  for 
Macaulay's  descriptive  art,  but  hundreds  of 
characters  who  played  only  incitleutal  parts 
in  the  drama  of  the  Revolution  come  to  life 
again  in  his  graphic  pages. 

B.  The  variety  in  length  of  paragraph  in 
character-descriptions. 

1.  The  description  may  be  of  any 
length  from  a  few  lines  to  several 
pages. 

See  1.     Monmouth,  I,  231. 

80 


2.     William,    Mary   and    lUir- 
net,  IT,  152-176. 
2.     A     character  -  description     usuall\- 
stands  in  a  paragraph  by  itself. 

(a)  Often  in  a  single  paragrajih. 
See  Tillotson,  II,  417-419. 

(b)  Oftener  character-descriptions 
follow  one  another  in  a  para- 
graph-group. 

See  1.     The     non-jurors.     If. 
407-416. 
2.     The     chiefs     of     the 
Whigs,  1\\  502-.120. 

(c)  A  paragraph  is  often  part 
character-description  and  part 
narrative  of  events  in  the  life  of 
the  same  character. 

See   Barillon   and    Talbot.    II, 
56-57. 

(d)  Many  character-descriptions 
are  vignettes  within  the  narra- 
tive paragraphs. 

See:     The   character    of 

Charles's       concubines       in 

chapter   4,    and    Pascal,    Tl. 

64. 

C.     The  places  where    character-description 

is  to  be  expected. 

1.     A  character-description  or  a  series  of 


character-descriptions  is  often  found  at 
the  beginning  of  a  narrative  passage. 
Macaulay's  preference  was  to  make  the 
character-description  explain  the  events 
/^in  the  narration.  In  other  words,  be- 
fore telHng  ns  of  a  person's  actions, 
Macanlay  lays  bare  the  motives  and  dis- 
positions from  which  those  actions  have 
proceeded. 

See:  Jeffreys.  I,  406-429;  Schom- 
berg.  II1/372;  Tillotson,  III,  420. 
Best  of  all,  see:  William  Will- 
iams, II,  310.  This  description  of 
Williams  illuminates  and  strength- 
ens wonderfully  the  succeeding 
narrative  passages. 

2.  In  many  cases,  like  those  above,  the 
reader  is  left  to  infer  the  effect  of  the 
character  in  the  succeeding  events.  In 
others  Alacaulay  directly  ])lans  to  show 
that  the  character  described  is  just  the. 
character  and  was  in  just  the  circum- 
stances to  act  as  we  find  him  acting  in 
the  narrative  which  follows. 

See:    Castlemaine,  II,  226;  II,  243. 

3.  Effect  heightened  by  suspense. 
Sometimes  Macaulay  does  not  bring  the 

character  he   has   described   into   play   at 
once.      He    impresses   the   mind   strongly 

P3 


l)y  lavishing  all  his  eloquence  on  a  char- 
acter for  a  paragraph  or  two  placed  op- 
portunely at  the  beginning  of  a  narrative 
series.  He  then  leaves  the  character  and 
narrates  events  not  connected  with  that 
character.  No  direct  connection  between 
the  events  and  the  person  is  made,  but 
he  is  remembered  from  the  description. 
When  the  person  does  later  appear  as  an 
actor,  his  actions  are  understood.  A  lively 
impression  is  made  on  the  reader  1)}-  the 
suspense. 

See:  Sutherland,  II,  67,  399-405.  In 
the  same  passage  the  work  of  vSidney 
is  also  going  on.  He  is  described  in 
366.  See  also  Torrington,  III,  536- 
542,  396-397. 

D.     Explanation  for  the  frequency  of  char- 
acter-description. 

In  the  essa}^  on  History  ^lacaulay  lays 
weight  on  the  fact  that  the  historian  who 
would  be  a  great  artist  must  produce  pic- 
tures as  striking,  for  example,  as  the  pic- 
ture of  Elizabeth  in  Scott's  Kenilworth, 
and  so  frequent  as  to  be  found  on  every 
page.  To  equal  such  novelists  was  his 
design  in  making  frequent  like-life  pic- 
tures. The  number  of  his  characters,  1::- 
manner  of  introducing  their  appearrnce, 

83 


their  sayings,  their  acts,  voice,  features, 
his  explanation  of  the  impression  they 
made,  warrants  our  conclusion  that  he  has 
accomplished  his  end,  namely,  "to  give 
truth  those  attractions  usurped  by  fiction." 

Place-  and  Sccnc-Dcscription.    Noticeable 
Features. 

A.  Where    Macaulay    is   apt    to    introduce 
place-description  and  scene-description. 

1.  Just  before  the  narration  of  events 
which  lead  up  to  a  battle  or  other 
event  of  importance. 

See  Sedgemoor,  I,  546;  Landing  at 
Torbay,  II,  433  ;  Exeter,  437  ;  Lon- 
donderry, III,  136;  Enniskillen, 
III,   134. 

2.  At  the  opening  of  chapters. 

See  Death  of  Charles  II,  ch.  4 
(scene)  ;  Carrie  Mfergus.  ch.  16 
(place). 

B.  \A'hat  places  and  scenes  are  described? 

All  the  places  associated  with  leading 
events  or  prominent  events  in  the  period 
covered.  Macaulay  visited  all  the  places 
he  described  and  wrote  in  accordance  with 
his  personal  observation. 

Place-descriptions. 

1.     They   are   usually    found   before 

84 


the  narrative  of  events  concerned 
with  the  place. 

See    Kerr}',    III,    120-134;    KiUie- 
crankie.  III,  320;  Boyne,  I\^  18-19. 

2.  They  usually  contain  but  a  feu- 
words, — seldom  over  a  page  and  a 
half  octavo,— and  usually  consist 
of  medium  sized  paragraphs. 

3.  Alacaulay  marks  only  the  most 
prominent  aspects  of  places,  the 
most  noticeable  features,  the  most 
conspicuous  objects.  Thus,  Boyne, 
ch.  16: 

"Still  William  continued  to  push 
forward,  and  still  the  Irish  receded 
before  him,  till,  on  the  morning  of 
Monday,  the  thirteenth  of  June,  his 
army,  marching  in  three  columns, 
reached  the  summit  of  a  rising 
ground  near  the  southern  frontier 
of  the  county  of  Louth.  Beneath 
lay  a  valley,  now  so  rich  and  so 
cheerful  that  the  Englishman  who 
gazes  on  it  may  imagine  himself  to 
be  in  one  of  the  most  highly  fa- 
voured parts  of  his  own  highly 
favoured  country.  Fields  of  wheat, 
woodlands,  meadows  bright  with 
daisies    and    clover,    slope    gently 


85 


do7,'i!    to   the   edge   of   the   Boyne. 
That    bright   and    tranquil   stream. 
the  boundary  of  Louth  and  Meath. 
having-  floAved  many  miles  between 
green   banks   crowned   by   modern 
palaces,  and  by  the  ruined  keeps  of 
old  Norman  barons  of  the  pale,  is 
here  about,  to  mingle  with  the  sea. 
Five  miles  to  the  i^'cst  of  the  place 
from  which  William  looked  down 
on  the  river,  now  stands,  on  a  ver- 
dant   bank,    amidst    nolile    woods. 
Slane   Castle,   the   nmnsion   of  the 
Marquess   of     Conyngham.      T-ico 
miles  to  tlie  east,  a  cloud  of  smoke 
from    factories   and   steam   vessels 
overhangs  the  busy  town  and  port 
of  Drogheda.     On  the  Meatli  side 
of  the  Boyne,  the  ground,  still  all 
corn,   grass,   flowers,   and    foliage, 
rises  with  a  gentle  swell  to  an  emi- 
nence surmounted  by  a  conspicuous 
tuft  of  ash  trees  which  overshades 
the    ruined    church    and    desolate 
graveyard  of  Donore." 
This    is    a    representative    passage. 
Macaulay  had  not  Carlyle's  distinc- 
tive gift  for  the  portrayal  of  places. 
His  bent  was  towards  the  descrip- 


tion  of  g^reat  scenes  or  occasions — 
the   pomp   attending-  the   assembly 
of   notables,   or   the   movement   of 
bodies  of  men. 
C.     Graphic  description  of  scenes  in  political 

history.      In   these   ]\Iacaulay   reveals   his 

fondness  for  movement. 

1.  The    movement    of    processions    or 
pageants. 

See  1.     William     at     Torbay,     II. 
437-44. 

2.  Jonrney  of  ^\'illiam  to 
Holland  and  triumphant 
entry,  R',  113-117,  ch.  17. 

3.  Procession  of  \\'  i  1 1  i  a  m 
through  the  country  after 
Namur,  V,  76-78.  ch.  21. 

4.  Rejoicing  in  England  after 
Rysv^ack.  The  King's  en- 
try into  London,  close  of 
ch.  22. 

2.  ^Movement  of  armies  and  navies. 
See :     Steinkirk,  IV,  352-360,  ch.  19. 

Landan,  IV.  465-470.  Trahogue. 
IV.  311-21.  The  Boyne,  J\ ,  24- 
52,  and  Londonderry,  Dunkeld. 
Glencoe,  Aghrim. 

3.  Other  striking  events. 

See :     Expulsion  of  Fellows  of  I\Iag- 

87 


dalen.      The    Trial    of    the    Seven 

Bishops. 
Remarks. 

In  1  (pageants  and  processions)  the 
paragraphs  are  made  very  long — one 
page  to  two  and  a  half  pages  octavo  ; 
each  description  usually  consists  of  a 
series  of  these  long  paragraphs  full 
of  lively,  brilliant  details  ;  the  descrip- 
tions are  purposely  composed  of  these 
long  paragraphs  in  keeping  with  the 
majesty  and  glory  of  the  scene. 
In  2  (movement  of  armies  and 
navies)  particularly  where  rapidity 
of  movement  is  desired,  the  para- 
graphs become  shorter  and  shorter  ; 
at  times  they  are  so  short  as  to  in- 
tentionally create  the  impression  of 
haste,  breathless  haste.  In  a  word, 
rapidity  means  short  paragraphs. 
The  same  is  true  of  description  of 
remarkable  scenes  full  of  excitement 
and  bustle,  like  the  trial  of  the  seven 
Bishops. 

D.     Pathetic     scenes ;     awful     or     horrible 

scenes ;  fallen  greatness. 

1.     Macaulay     was     always     profoundly 

moved   by    such    scenes   and    described 

them  admirably.     See:    Death  of  Mary, 

88 


death  of  Charles;  best  of  all.  see:  the 
capture  and  execution  of  Monmouth,  l, 
550-563. 

Remark. 

The  pathetic  element  is  strong  in  the 
History.  The  pathetic  descriptions 
are  usually  severely  simple  and  are 
written  in  a  series  of  medium-sized 
paragraphs  indicative  of  deep  feel- 
ing expressed  calmly. 
It  was  often  necessary  for  Macaulay 
to  describe  awful  or  horrible  scenes. 
See:  The  trial  and  whipping  of 
Gates,  1,  436;  Suffering  of  Danger- 
field,  I,  440-42 ;  End  of  Jeffreys,  III, 
360-364. 

Remark. 

Descriptions  of  awful  scenes  are  often 
made  in  long  paragraphs,  sometimes 
in  a  single  paragraph  of  one-half  or 
three-fourths  of  a  page,  sometimes  in 
a  series  of  paragraphs  one-half  to 
three-fourths  of  a  page  each.  In 
these  descriptions  Macaulay  makes 
the  paragraphs  either  cumulative, 
pregnant  with  details,  or  shortens 
the  paragraphs,  filling  them  with 
short,  brief  statements  and  conversa- 
tion.   For  the  second  kind  see:    Trial 

89 


of  Baxter,  I,  442-446.     In  the  second 
kind   the  aim  is :     (1 )    to  give  more 
movement,    to   make   the    scene    dra- 
matic. 
6.     Length  of  Description.     Maeaiilay's  Abil- 
ity to  Adapt  Himself  to  Description  of 
Any   Length,   from    o    Frw   Sentences 
(Vignettes)    to    Long,    Elaborate    De- 
scription. 
A.     Macaulay  had  the  gift  of  adapting  him- 
self to  small  or  large  compass.     He  could 
exercise  his  selective  faculty  and,  hy  util- 
izing conspicuous  features,  present  a  pic- 
ture of  a  place  in  a  few  brief  words  or 
condense    a    character-description    into    a 
few  lines.    Yet  these  short  descriptions  do 
not  give  the  reader  any  sense  of  incom- 
pleteness.     He   sees   at   once   that   minor 
features    are    suppressed   and    prominent 
points   given    instead.      The    few    strokes 
reveal  the  character  and  save  the  time  of 
the  writer.     The  few  lines  and  colors  of 
place-description  "throw"  before  the  eye 
a    vignette    as    marked    and    suggestive 
as   David's   sketch   of   Marie   Antoinette. 
These  vignettes  display  as  much  talent  as 
long  description. 

Thus    (character-description)  : 

"\Mldman  had  served  forty  years  be- 

90 


fore  in  the  parliamentary  army,  but 
had  been  more  distinguished  there  as 
an  agitator  than  as  a  soldier,  and  had 
early  quitted  the  profession  of  arms 
for  pursuits  better  suited  to  his  tem- 
per.   His  hatred  of  monarchy  had  in- 
duced him  to  engage  in  a  long  series 
of  conspiracies,  first  against  the  Pro- 
tector, and  then  against  the  Stuarts. 
But  with  Wildman's  fanaticism  was 
joined    a    tender   care    for     his   own 
safety.     He  had  a  wonderful  skill  in 
grazing  the  edge  of  treason.    No  man 
understood   better    how    to   instigate 
others    to    desperate    enterprises    by 
words    which,    when    repeated    to    a 
jury,    might    seem    innocent,    or    at 
worst,    ambiguous.      Such    was    his 
cunning  that,  though  always  plotting, 
though  always  known  to  be  plotting, 
and  though  long  malignantly  watched 
by  a  vindictive  government,  he  eluded 
every  danger,   and   died   in   his   bed, 
after  having  seen  two  generations  of 
his  accomplices  die  on  the  gallows. 
Danvers  was  a  man  of  the  same  class, 
hotheaded,     but     fainthearted,     con- 
stantly urged  to  the  brink  of  danger 
by  enthusiasm,  and  constantly  stopped 


on  that  brink  by  cowardice.  He  had 
considerable  influence  among  a  por- 
tion of  the  Baptists,  had  written 
largely  in  defence  of  their  peculiar 
opinions,  and  had  drawn  down  on 
himself  the  severe  censure  of  the 
most  respectable  Puritans  by  attempt- 
ing to  palliate  the  crimes  of  Matthias 
and  John  of  Leyden.  It  is  probable 
that,  had  he  possessed  a  little  courage, 
he  would  have  trodden  in  the  foot- 
steps of  the  wretches  whom  he  de- 
fended. He  was,  at  this  time,  con- 
cealing himself  from  the  officers  of 
justice;  for  warrants  were  out  against 
him  on  account  of  a  grossly  calumni- 
ous paper  of  which  the  government 
had  discovered  him  to  be  the  author. 
"It  is  easy  to  imagine  what  kind 
of  intelligence  and  counsel  men,  such 
as  have  been  described,  were  likely  to 
send  to  the  outlaws  in  the  Nether- 
lands. An  estimate  may  be  formed 
from  a  few  samples. 
"One  of  the  most  conspicuous  among 
them  was  John  AylofTe,  a  lawyer 
connected  by  affinity  with  the  Hydes, 
and  through  the  Hydes,  with  James. 
Ayloffe  had  early  made   himself  re- 

92 


markable  by  offering  a  whimsical  in- 
sult to  the  government.  At  a  time 
when  the  ascendency  of  the  court  of 
Versailles  had  excited  general  un- 
easiness, he  had  contrived  to  put  a 
wooden  shoe,  the  established  type, 
among  the  English,  of  French 
tyranny,  into  the  chair  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  He  had  subsequently 
been  concerned  in  the  Whig  plot ; 
but  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that 
he  was  a  party  to  the  design  of 
assassinating  the  royal  brothers.  He 
was  a  man  of  parts  and  courage  ;  but 
his  moral  character  did  not  stand 
high.  The  Puritan  divines  whispered 
•that  he  was  a  careless  Gallio  or  some- 
thing worse,  and  that,  whatever  zeal 
he  might  profess  for  civil  liberty,  the 
Saints  would  do  well  to  avoid  all  con- 
nection with  him. 

"Nathaniel  Wade  was.  like  Ayloffe, 
a  lawyer.  He  had  long  resided  at 
Bristol,  and  had  been  celebrated  in 
his  own  neighbourhood  as  a  vehe- 
ment republican.  At  one  time  he 
had  formed  a  project  of  emigrating 
to  New  Jersey,  where  he  expected  to 
find   institutions  better   suited  to  his 


taste  than  those  of  England.  His  ac- 
tivity in  electioneering  had  introduced 
him  to  the  notice  of  some  Whig 
nobles.  They  had  employed  him  pro- 
fessionally, and  had,  at  length,  ad- 
mitted him  to  their  most  secret  coun- 
sels. He  had  been  deeply  concerned 
in  the  scheme  of  insurrection,  and 
had  undertaken  to  head  a  rising  in 
his  own  city.  He  had  also  been 
privy  to  the  more  odious  plot  against 
the  lives  of  Charles  and  James.  But 
he  always  declared  that,  though  privy 
to  it,  he  abhorred  it,  and  had  attempt- 
ed to  dissuade  his  associates  from 
carrying  their  design  into  elTect.  For 
a  man  bred  to  civil  pursuits.  Wade 
seems  to  have  had,  in  an  unusual  de- 
gree, that  sort  of  ability  and  that 
sort  of  nerve  which  make  a  good  sol- 
dier. Unhappily  his  principles  and 
his  courage  proved  to  be  not  of  suffi- 
cient force  to  support  him  when  the 
fight  was  over,  and  when  in  a  prison, 
he  had  to  choose  between  death  and 
infamy. 

"Another  fugitive  was  Richard  Good- 
enough,  who  had  formerly  been  Un- 
der Sheriff  of  London.    On  this  man 

04 


or 


his  party  had  long  relied  for  services 
of  no  honorable  kind,  and  especially 
for  the  selection  of  jurymen  not  likely 
to  be  troubled  with  scruples  in  po- 
litical cases.  He  had  been  deeply  con- 
cerned in  those  dark  and  atrocious 
parts  of  the  Whig  plot  which  had 
been  carefully  concealed  from  the 
most  respectable  Whigs.  Nor  is  it 
possible  to  plead,  in  extenuation  of 
his  guilt,  that  he  was  misled  by  in- 
ordinate zeal  for  the  public  good. 
For  it  will  be  seen  that  after  having 
disgraced  a  noble  cause  by  his  crimes, 
he  betrayed  it  in  order  to  escape  from 
his  well  merited  punishment." 

"'\'ery  different  was  the  character 
of  Richard  Rumbold.  He  had  held 
a  commission  in  Cromwell's  own  regi- 
ment, had  guarded  the  scaffold  Ije- 
fore  the  Banqueting  House  on  the 
day  of  the  great  execution,  had 
fought  at  Dunbar  and  Worcester, 
and  had  always  shown  in  the  highest 
degree  the  qualities  which  distin- 
guished the  invincible  army  in  which 
he  served,  courage  of  the  truest  tem- 
per, fiery  enthu — "  First  part  of 
Chapter  6. 

95 


The  following  is  place-description  : 
"In  the  seventeenth  century  Drogheda 
presented  a  very  different  aspect.  The 
traces  of  art  and  industry  were  few. 
Scarcely  a  vessel  was  on  the  river  except 
those  rude  coracles  of  wickerwork  cov- 
ered with  the  skins  of  horses  in  which  the 
Celtic  peasantry  fished  for  trout  and 
salmon.  Drogheda,  now  peopled  by  twen- 
ty thousand  industrious  inhabitants,  was 
a  small  knot  of  narrow,  crooked,  and 
filthy  lanes,  encircled  by  a  ditch  and  a 
mound.  The  houses  were  built  of  wood 
with  high  gables  and  projecting  upper 
stories.  Without  the  walls  of  the  town, 
scarcely  a  dwelling  was  to  be  seen  except 
at  a  place  called  Oldbridge.  At  Oldbridge 
the  river  was  fordable ;  and  on  the  south 
of  the  ford  were  a  few  mud  cabins,  and 
a  single  house  built  of  more  solid  ma- 
terials. 

"When  William  caught  sight  of  the 
valley  of  the  Boyne,  he  could  not  suppress 
an  exclamation  and  gesture  of  delight. 
He  had  been  apprehensive  that  the  enemy 
would  avoid  a  decisive  action,  and  would 
protract  the  war  till  the  autumnal  rains 
should  return  with  pestilence  in  their  train. 
He  was  now  at  ease.  It  was  plain  that  the 

98 


contest  would  be  sharp  and  short.  Tlie 
paviHon  of  James  was  pitched  on  the  emi- 
nence of  Donore.  The  flags  of  the  House 
of  Stuart  and  of  the  House  of  ISourbon 
waved  together  in  defiance  on  the  wahs 
of  Drogheda.  AU  the  Southern  l)ank  of 
the  river  was  hned  by  the  camp  and  bat- 
teries of  the  hostile  army.  Thousands  of 
armed  men  were  moving  about  among 
the  tents  ;  and  every  one,  horse-soldier  or 
foot-soldier.  French  or  Iri>h.  had  a  white 
badge  on  his  hat.  That  colour  had  been 
chosen  in  compliment  to  the  House  of 
Eourbon.  T'm  glad  to  see  you.  gentle- 
men,' said  the  king,  as  his  keen  eye  sur- 
veyed the  Irish  lines.  Tf  you  escape  me 
now,  the  fault  will  be  mine.'  "  Ch.  16, 
paragraphs  7  and  8. 
B.  As  the  direct  opposite  of  the  gift  of 
selection.  Macaulay  had  the  gift  of  elab- 
orate description,  in  which  all  details  are 
filled,  thus  making  a  large  picture  as  com- 
plete as  it  is  minute.  Alacaulay  could 
change  his  method  according  to  his  sub- 
ject. Long  descriptions  are  found  in  every 
chapter  of  the  History.  See :  The  two 
pages  devoted  to  a  rich,  cnnndative,  long 
paragTa])h  on  the  consternation  in  Dublin 
after   the   Boyne,   IV,    124-125.      In   de- 


scriptions. — such  as   the  one   cited, — Ma- 
caulay  is  apt  to  make  the  beginning  and 
end  of  the  paragraph  unostentatious  and 
cahn,  and  the  center  ghtter  with  details. 
Such  paragraphs  are  Hke  the  gradual  kin- 
dling, full  blaze  and  dying  out  of  a  bon- 
fire. 
7.     Use   Made    by   Macaulay   of   Description 
Supported  by  Narration.     Analyses  of 
Examples. 
(a)     It  was  Macaulay 's  habit  to  give  a  de- 
scription of  a  place  immediately  before  the 
events  which  centered  in  that  place.     The 
explanation  is,  of  course,  that  the  descrip- 
tion illustrated  the  narrative,  the  narrative 
•     utilized  or  supported  the  details  given  in 
the  description.     This  was  a  common  de- 
vice of  ]\Iacaulay's  for  giving  force  to  his 
narration. 
Thus : 

"Athlone  was  perhaps,  in  a  military 
point  of  view,  the  most  important 
place  in  the  island.  Rosen,  who  un- 
derstood war  well,  had  always  main- 
tained that  it  was  there  that  the 
Irishry  would,  with  most  advantage, 
make  a  stand  against  the  Englishry. 
The  town  which  ivas  surrounded  by 
ramparts  of  earth,  lay  partly  in  Lein- 

98 


ster  and  partlx-   in   Connauglit.     The 
English  quarter,  which  was  in  Lein- 
ster.  had  once  consisted  of  new  and 
handsome  houses,  hut  had  heen  hurnt 
by  the  Irish  some  months  before,  and 
now  lay  in  heaps  of  ruin.    The  Celtic 
quarter,  which  was  in  Connaught,  was 
old  and  meanly  built.    The  Shannon, 
zi'luch    is   the   boundary   of    the   ttvo 
f^roi-inccs.  rushed  through  Athlone  in 
a  deep  and  rapid  stream,  and  turned 
tico    large    mills  tdnch  rose  on   the 
arches  of  a  stone  bridge.     Above  the 
bridge,    on     the     Connaught   side    a 
castle,    built,    it    was    said,   by   King 
John,  towered  to  the  height  of  sev- 
enty feet,  and  extended  two  hundred 
feet  along  the  river.     Fifty  or  sixty 
yards  beloii'  the  bridge  was  a  narrozu 
ford."     l\,  182.  ch.  17. 
Tn   the  narrative  paragraphs   following 
this  short  description  we  read,  in  the  first 
paragraph,  that  a  breach  was  made  and 
"The  Irish    .    .    .    ran  towards  the  bridge. 
There  the  press  was  so  great  that  some 
of  the  fugitives  were  crushed  to  death  in 
the  narrow  passage  and  others  were  forced 
over  the  parapets  into  the  waters  zvhich 
roared  among  the  mill  zvheels  beloiv;"  in 

09 


the  second  paragraph,  "the  bridge  was  so 
narrow  that  a  few  resolute  men  might 
keep  it  against  an  army.  The  )nills  zi'Iiich 
stood  on  it  zi'ere  strongly  guarded  and  it 
was  commanded  by  the  gtins  of  the  castle," 
.  .  .  etc.  Five  paragraphs  further  on 
we  read:  "On  the  thirteenth  of  June 
Ginkell  .  .  .  proposed  to  try  tlie  ford." 
(b)  Often  both  a  description  of  the  gen- 
erals, and  of  the  place,  precedes  the  ac- 
count of  a  battle.  See :  Description  of  the 
character  of  Luxemburg  and  of  the  coun- 
try around  Lambeque  and  Steinkirk  before 
the  Battle  of  Steinkirk,  IV.  352-353. 

8.     Diagrain,  Point  of  Reference. 

One  would  think  that  a  skillful  writer  like 
r\lacaulay,  who  aims  to  make  his  descriptions 
clear  and  forcible,  would  not  only  use  mechan- 
ical devices  for  assisting  the  reader,  but  would 
indicate  lines  or  suggest  the  diagram  of  a 
place.  This  is  true  of  his  historical  description. 
Thus  : 

"The  buildings  (of  Londonderry)  cov- 
ered the  summit  and  slope  of  a  hill  which 
overlooked  the  broad  stream  of  the  Foyle, 
then  whitened  by  vast  flocks  of  wild 
swans.  C)n  the  highest  ground  stood  the 
cathedral.  .  .  .  Near  the  cathedral  rose 
the  palace   of  the   Bishop.     .     .     .     The 

100 


citv  was  in  iorm  nearly  an  ellipse ;  and 
the  principal  streets  formed  a  cross,  the 
arms  of  which  met  in  a  square  called  the 
diamond,"  etc.,  Ill,  136,  ch.  12. 

Or  this : 

"The  most  important  military  post  in 
Athol  was  Blair  Castle.  The  house  wdiich 
now  bears  that  name  is  not  distinguished 
by  any  striking  peculiarity  from  other 
country  seats  of  the  aristocracy.  The  old 
l)uil(ling-  was  a  lofty  tower  of  rude  archi- 
tecture which  commanded  a  vale  watered 
by  the  Garry.  The  walls  would  have  of- 
fered very  little  resistance  to  a  battering 
train,  but  were  quite  strong  enough  to 
keep  the  herdsmen  of  the  Grampians  in 
awe.  About  five  miles  soutJi  of  this  strong- 
Jiold  the  valley  of  the  Garry  contracts  itself 
into  the  celebrated  glen  of  Killiecrankie. 
.  The  only  path  was  narrow  and 
rugged :  a  horse  could  with  difficulty  be 
led  up :  two  men  could  hardly  walk 
abreast ;  and,  in  some  places,  the  way  ran 
so  close  by  the  precipice  that  the  traveller 
had  great  need  of  a  steady  eye  and  foot. 
Many  years  later,  the  first  Duke  of  Athol 
constructed  a  road  up  which  it  w^as  just 
possible  to  drag  his  coach.  But  even  that 
road   was   so   steep  and   so  strait  that  a 


handful  of  resolute  men  might  have  de- 
fended it  against  an  army  ;  nor  did  any 
Saxon  consider  a  visit  to  Kihiecranlvie  as 
a  pleasure,  till  experience  had  taught  the 
English  Government  that  the  weapons  by 
w^hich  the  Celtic  clans  could  be  most  ef- 
fectually subdued  were  the  pickaxe  and 
the  spade."    Ill,  320.  ch.  13. 

Or  this : 

"The  steeple  of  the  parish  church  of 
Bridgewater  is  said  to  be  the  loftiest  in 
Somersetshire,  and  commands  a  wide  view 
of  the  surrounding  country.  Monmouth, 
accompanied  by  some  of  his  officers,  went 
up  to  the  top  of  the  square  tower  from 
which  the  spire  ascends,  and  observed 
through  a  telescope  the  position  of  the  en- 
emy. Beneath  him  lay  a  flat  expanse. 
."  I,  541,  ch.  5. 
]\Iacaulay  went  up  to  the  top  of  the 
same  steeple.  (See  Trevelyan,  Life  and 
Letters  of  Macaulay,  \'ol.  II.) 

9.  Shifting  the  Point  of  Jlc7^'.  Use  of  Nar- 
ration for  Suspense. 
In  the  History  we  find,  what  would  be  long 
description,  sometimes  given  in  several  stages. 
— usuallv  two  or  three, — the  efifect  being  that 
of  a  succession  of  views.     Macaulav  uses  the 


102 


expedient  of  placing  narration  between  the  dif- 
ferent views  as  a  means  of  suspense. 

A  magnificent  example  of  this  occurs  in  the 
account  of  the  expulsion  of  the  Fellows  of 
Magdalen.  First,  the  appearance  of  ^lagdalen 
College  is  described,  II,  260-261,  ch.  17.  Sec- 
ond, the  hi>tory  of  the  college,  up  to  the  quar- 
rel between  James  and  the  Fellows,  is  nar- 
rated. II,  261-267.  Third,  the  progress  of 
James,  "the  longest  and  most  splendid  that 
had  been  known  during  many  years,"  is  nar- 
rated. II.  265-267.  Fourth,  the  description  of 
the  expulsion  of  the  Fellows  of  the  College  is 
given.  The  reader's  mind  is  led  from  the 
col'ege  itself  to  its  history,  then  to  the  royal 
progress  through  the  country,  then  to  the  work 
of  expulsion  and  spoliation.  A  panoramic  ef- 
fect is  thus  obtained. 

Another  thrilling  example  is  found  in  the 
fourth  paragraph  of  the  seventeenth  chapter. 
In  the  second  paragraph  begins  a  description 
of  William's  enthusiastic  reception  in  Holland, 
which  is  continued  through  the  third  para- 
graph. The  second  paragraph  is  a  page  octavo, 
the  third  is  two  pages  long.  In  the  fourth 
paragraph  JMacaulay  pauses  long  enough  to 
mention  the  differences  between  William's  ob- 
ligations to  the  States-General  on  his  depar- 
ture and  on  his  return.     The  paragraph  em- 

103 


bracing  these  facts,  and  consisting  of  a  mere 
hundred  words,  carries  the  mind  from  the 
jubilant  celebration  of  the  Hollanders  into  the 
Senate  chamber.  It  acts  as  a  lull  amid  the 
huzzas  of  the  joyful  people.  In  the  fifth  para- 
graph the  great  writer  takes  us  into  the  streets 
again,  for.  in  this  paragraph  of  two  pages,  he 
completes  his  description  of  the  reception  of 
\\'illiam  at  the  Hague. 

10.  Introducing  the  Personal  Element.  This 
as  a  Common  Dii'ice  of  Maeaulay. 

The  love  of  contrast  which  is  so  prominent  a 
characteristic  of  IMacaulay's  writings  comes 
out  never  so  strongly  as  in  those  descriptions 
where  the  personal  element  is  introduced.  In 
these  descriptions  he  awakens  in  the  mind  of 
the  reader  thought  or  feeling  by  suggesting  the 
impression  which  the  event,  condition  or  scene 
makes  on  the  mind  of  a  contemporary,  or  on 
the  mind  of  an  observer.  The  device  is  a  com- 
monplace of  the  great  writers.  Macaulay's 
manner  is  to  contrast  the  effect  made  by  a 
scene  or  event  on  its  contemporary  with  the 
wrong  notion  of  it  held  by  the  ordinary  reader, 
thereby  correcting  the  wrong'  notion.  The  de- 
vice is  subtle  in  its  workings.  It  is  also  charm- 
ing because  it  appeals  to  the  reader's  conceit. 

The  place  where  this  artifice  is  most  com- 
monly noticeable  is  in  the  celebrated  chapter  on 

101 


the  state  of  England  in  1685.    The  chapter  dis- 
plays many  varieties  of  its  use,  sonie  of  them 
at  once  evident,  others  not  so  readily  discerned. 
Thus  : 

1.  "JJ'r  should  he  much  mistaken  if  7vc 
pictured  to  niirsclrcs  tlie  squires  of  the 
seventeenth  century  as  men  bearing-  a 
close  resemblance  to  their  descendants. 

.  The  modern  country  oentleman 
generally  receives  a  liberal  edtication. 
passes  from  a  distinguished  school  to  a 
distinguished  college,  .  .  ."'  and  so 
forth  for  a  half  a  page  on  modern  Eng- 
lish education.  Then :  "A  conntrv 
i^ciitlcuian  K'lio  -i^'itjicssed  the  revolution 
was  probably  in  receipt  of  about  a  fourth 
of  that  which  his  acres  now  yield  to  his 
posterity.  .  .  ."  and  so  on.  a  page 
and  a  half  on  the  inferior  advantages  of 
young  country  gentlemen  in  those  days. 
II.  292. 

2.  After  two  pages  on  the  social  degrada- 
tion of  the  lower  clergy,  "Clarendon, 
who  assuredly  bore  no  ill-will  to  the 
priesthood,  mentions  as  a  sign  of  con- 
fusion of  ranks  which  the  great  rebel- 
lion had  produced,  that  some  damsels 
of  noble  families  had  bestowed  them- 
selves on  divines."    II,  300-301. 

105 


3.  In  a  long  paragraph  of  a  page  and  a 
half  Macaulay  skillfully  conveys  the 
impression  that  he  is  all  the  while  giv- 
ing Pepys'  opinion  of  London,  where- 
as Pepys'  opinion  really  stops  at  the  end 
of  the  passage  quoted  : 

"Pepys,  who  visited  Bristol  eight 
years  after  the  Restoration,  was  struck 
by  the  splendour  of  the  city. 
It  seems  that,  in  no  other  place  with 
which  he  was  acquainted,  except  Lon- 
don, did  the  buildings  completely  shut 
out  the  woods  and  fields.  Large  as 
Bristol  might  then  appear,  it  occupied 
but  a  very  small  portion  of  the  area  in 
which  it  now  stands.     .     .     ."     II,  307. 

4.  "He  who  rambled  to  what  is  now  the 
gayest  and  most  crowded  part  of  Re- 
gent street  found  himself  in  a  solitude, 
and  was  sometimes  fortunate  enough  to 
have  a  shot  at  a  woodcock."    II,  326. 

11.     Sketch.    Suggestion. 

(a)  Enough  has  already  been  said  upon 
Macaulay's  power  of  abridging  his  de- 
scription as  well  as  amplifying  it.  Suffi- 
cient illustrations  of  his  ability  as  a 
sketcher  may  be  had  by  consulting  Sec- 
tion 6  of  this  chapter. 

(b)  Novelists,     short-story     writers,     dra- 

loa 


matists,  have  written  passages  in  which 
the  aim  was  to  suggest  a  certain  thought 
to  tlie  reader,  to  throw  him  into  a  certain 
mood,  to  imply  that  something  pleasurable 
or  disagreeable  is  about  to  happen.  Ma- 
caulay  has  used  this  artistic  touch  as  well 
as  any  novelist  or  dramatist. 

In  the  following  extract, — taken  from 
the  description  of  Glencoe,  coming  long 
before  the  massacre. — there  is  everywhere 
a  suggestion  of  sadness  and  impending 
horror.  The  prose  extract  rivals  the 
famous  passage  in  Shakespeare's  Macbeth 
beginning : 

"The  raven  himself  is  hoarse 
That  croaks  the  fatal  entrance  of  Dun- 
can 
Under  my  battlements." 
Macbeth.  A.  1,  S.  5. 
"]\lac   Ian   dwelt  in  fJie  mouth   of  a 
ravine  situated  not  far  from  the  south- 
ern shore  of  Lochleven,  an  arm  of  the 
sea  zchich   deeply   indents  the   western 
coast   of    Scotland,    and    separates    Ar- 
gvleshire  from  Invernesshire.    ...    In 
the  Gaelic  tongue,  Glencoe  signfies  the 
Glen  of  Weeping,  and  in  truth  that  pass 
is  the  most  dreary  and  melancholy  of  all 
the  Scottish  passes,  the  very  Valley  of 

107 


the  Siiadozu  of  Death.  Alists  and  storms 
brood  over  it  through  the  greater  part 
of  the  finest  summer ;  and  ci'cn  on  those 
rare  days  when  the  sun  is  bright,  and 
when  there  is  no  cloud  in  the  sky,  the 
impression  made  by  the  landscape  is  sad 
and  azufid.  The  path  lies  along  a  stream 
which  issues  from  the  most  sullen  and 
gloomy  of  mountain  pools.  Huge  preci- 
pices of  naked  stone  frown  on  both  sides. 
Even  in  July  the  streaks  of  snow  may 
often  be  discerned  in  the  rifts  near  the 
summits.  All  down  the  sides  of  the 
crags  heaps  of  ruin  mark  the  headlong 
paths  of  the  torrents,"  etc.  IV,  177, 
ch.  18. 

12.     Generalised  Description. 

It  was  sometimes  necessary  for  the  historian 
to  give  a  description,  not  of  a  person,  but  of  a 
people ;  and  to  describe  them,  not  in  sections, 
or  as  they  were  at  any  one  time,  but  as  a  whole 
and  in  their  essential  character.  Other  his- 
torians have  described  a  people  in  this  manner. 
No  one  has  been  more  successful  than  Ma- 
caulay. 

In  II,  179-182,  ch.  12,  he  devotes  one  para- 
graph, in  length  two  pages  and  a  half  octavo, 
to  a  generalized  character-description  of  the 
Ulstermen  and  Leinstermen  crowded  in  Lon- 
donderry. jQg 


"And  now  Londonderry  was  left  destitute 
of  all  military  and  of  all  civil  g-overnment.  No 
man  in  the  town  had  a  rit^ht  to  command  any 
other :  the  defence  was  weak.  .  .  .  What- 
ever an  engineer  might  think  of  the  strength 
of  the  ramparts,  all  that  was  most  intelligent, 
most  courageous,  most  high-spirited  among 
the  Englishry  of  Leinster  and  North-Ulster 
was  crowded  behind  them."  All  the  remainder 
of  the  long-  paragraph  is  given  to  a  description 
of  them.  They  are  compared  to  the  Crom- 
wellian  army,  the  Castilians,  the  Spartans.  He 
concludes :  "Nevertheless  it  is  impossible  to 
deny  that  the  English  colonists  have  had,  with 
too  many  of  the  faults,  all  the  noblest  virtues 
of  a  sovereign  caste.  The  faults  have,  as  was 
natural,  been  most  offensively  exhibited  in 
times  of  prosperity  and  security ;  the  virtues 
have  been  most  resplendent  in  times  of  dis- 
tress and  peril ;  and  never  were  those  virtues 
so  signally  displayed  as  by  the  defenders  of 
Londonderry,  when  their  governor  had  aban- 
doned them,  and  when  the  camp  of  their  mor- 
tal enemy  was  pitched  before  their  walls." 

The  beginning  and  end  of  the  long  para- 
graph are  connected  with  the  preceding  and 
following  narration  by  particularizing-  the  facts 
that  the  virtues  of  the  people  were  evinced  in 
the  siege,  nevertheless  two  pages  of  the  para- 

109 


graph  treat  of  the  virtues  and  faults  of  the 
Ulstermen  and  Leinstermen  in  general.  The 
characteristics  mentioned  by  Macaulay  that 
people  have  had  in  all  places  and  at  all  times. 


110 


CHAPTER  V 

EXPOSITION 


General  Remarks  on  Macaiilay  as  an  Ex- 
positor. 
A.  Two  thing's  were  a  forecast  of  the  full 
exhibition  of  Macaulay's  expository  gifts 
in  the  History  of  England :  First,  his 
essays, — such  as  those  on  Bentlmm  and 
Mill ;  second,  his  strength  in  parliamen- 
tary debate.  Tn  the  essays  he  displayed 
acumen  in  philosophical  disputation,  mas- 
tery of  utilitarian  and  other  ethical,  po- 
litical and  economic  theory.  When  he 
spoke  in  the  House,  the  Commons  were 
captivated  by  his  methods  of  persuasion 
and  thrown  -into  rapture  by  his  eloquence. 
Though  his  arguments  might  not  always 
be  convincing  to  some,  nor  worthy  of  final 
confidence,  they  always  seemed  plausible 
and  were  always  put  ingeniously  and 
strongly.  Tndeefl  his  faculty  for  debate 
and  for  incisive  criticism  of  theological 
or  ethical  theory,  was  only  another  illus- 
tration of  his  versatility.  The  fulness  of 
111 


his  expository  power  was  to  be  displayed 
in  the  History  of  England. 

B.  It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  History 
there  are  two  conditions  or  moods  when 
^lacaulay  becomes  expository.  First,  he 
speculates  at  almost  every  turn  on  wTiat 
would  have  happened  under  given  condi- 
tions_^  or  what  would  be  done  in  the  fu- 
ture as  a  result  of  certain  facts.  He 
states  probabilities  or  improbabilities  and 
often  indulges  in  dogmatic  certitude.  See  : 
"The  new  charter  given  to  the  East  India 
Company,"  I\\  485,  ch.  20.  Second,  it  is 
his  habit  to  state  the  truth  as  it  appeared 
to  him,  in  contradistinction  to  the  opinion 
of  party  or  sect.  These  statements  al- 
ways follow  the  discussion  of  clashing 
opinions.  See  the  excellent  illustrative 
passage.  "The  Place  Bill."  R',  407-410. 

C.  There  are  two  kinds  of  exposition  in 
the  History.  First,  where  Macaulay  is 
laying  down  or  explaining  the  opinions  of 
others  on  a  point.  See :  "The  convention 
turned  into  a  Parliament,"  III,  36-37 ; 
The  debate  on  the  Bill  of  Rights,  III,  352- 
356.  Second,  wdien  he  is  giving  voice  to 
his  own  opinion.  See :  The  short  his- 
tory of  the  English  Ministry,  beginning 
"The  truth  was  that  the  change  which  the 

112 


Revolution  had  made.  ..."  I\^,  492. 
D.  INIacaulay's  adaptability  in  exposition. 
Macaulay  abbreviated  his  exposition  or 
allowed  himself  liberty  to  explain  a  point 
or  discuss  fully  a  situation,  in  accordance 
with  the  main  plan  of  the  passage  or 
chapter.  The  exposition  may  be  in  many 
or  few  paragraphs  as  it  suits  his  purpose. 

1.  For  an  "abstract  of  (a)  debate" 
see  :  Abstract  of  Somers's  Argument 
on  the  Bill  of  Rights,  III,  353.  para- 
graph 3.  Xote :  (a)  It  is  in  one 
medium  paragraph  :  (b)  it  is  a  digest 
of  the  weaker  side  of  an  argument 
given  among  a  series  of  short  para- 
graphs, expressing  the  excitement  of 
Parliament  at  the  Trial  of  Oates ; 
(c)  It  is  artfully  followed  by  the 
two  long  paragraphs  of  "complete 
and  triumphant"  reply  to  the  argu- 
ment expressed  in  the  digest. 

2.  All  the  important  debates  of  Par- 
liament are  given  in  sequences  of  long 
paragraphs.  These  show:  (1)  the 
temper  of  Macaulay's  mind  for  par- 
liamentary disputation  ;  (2)  his  power 
in  amplified  exposition;  (3)  his  fidel- 
ity to  his  theory,  to  treat  fully  the 
history  of  politics  as  well  as  people, 

113 


See:    "The  Mutiny  Bill,"  III,  50-53 
(three     paragraphs,     over     a     page 
apiece).    See  also:   "The  Place  Bill," 
"The  Comprehension  Bill,"  etc. 
2.     Macaulay's  Manner. 

A.  Attempt  to  get  at  the  truth  under  con- 
ditions or  circumstances  where  the  opin- 
ions of  parties  or  sections  are  at  variance. 
In  such  cases  he  states : 

(a)  The  opinions  of  parties  in  a  para- 
graph or  two — usually  medium  para- 
graphs. 

(b)  Then  the  truth,  as  it  appears  to 
him,  in  a  separate  paragraph 

See:     "The    Declaration    of    Indulg- 
ence," I,  207-210,  ch.  2.     Three  me- 
dium   paragraphs    stating     (1)     the 
opinion  of  parliament;  (2)  the  opin- 
ion of  king  and  court;  (3)  the^ruth 
(as  it  a£gears  to  Macaulay).     Also: 
"The' arguments "ag^ihst  the  oaths," 
II.  402-403.  ch.  14;  and  "The  Place 
Bill,"  IV,  407-410;  "The  Ministry," 
I^^  492. 
B^    Simple  statement  of  a  situation  followed 
by  a  justification  of  the  action  of  an  indi- 
y  vidual  in  that  situation. 

(a)  The  situation  is  given  in  a  short 
link  paragraph. 

114 


(h)  The  justification  in  one  or  two 
long  paragraphs. 

See :     Justification     of     the     King's 
anger   at   tlie   committee   of    religion, 
I,  466. 

C.  Narration  of  certain  events,  followed 
by  a  statement  of  the  correct  line  of  action 
an  individual  should  take  who  is  to  act  in 
the  events  coming  after  the  events  nar- 
rated. 

(a)  Such  exposition  usually  comes  in 
a  single  long  paragraph. 

(b)  The  paragraph,  coming  directly 
in  the  midst  of  narration,  and  treat- 
ing of  persons  acting  in  the  narrative, 
makes  the  paragraph  smack  of  narra- 
tion, whereas  the  spirit  of  it  is  ex- 
pository. See :  "Unreasouable  con- 
duct of  the  Scotch  refugees,"  I,  487., 
and  "Temper  of  the  Scotch  nation," 
I,  497-498. 

D.  .Statement  of  the  policy  in  a  given  situa- 
tion of  parties  or  factions  ;  first,  the  policy 
of  a  party,  then  the  policy  of  the  other, 
with  the  reasons  for  each,  concluding  with 
tlic  action  taken  by  the  party  which  gets 
the  upper  hand. 

(a)  In  such  cases  the  paragraphs  are 
medium. 

115 


(b)  The  idea  is  not  to  burden  the 
reader  with  tedious  details  of  debates. 
See :  "ParHament  after  the  Abdica- 
tion," II,  524-527,  and  "Contest  of 
Whigs  and  Tories  over  the  Regency," 
II,  562-567. 

But  in  case  of  a  burning  question,  the 
opinions  of  parties  are  stated  in  long 
paragraphs  of  one  to  one  and  one- 
half  pages  each. 

See :     "Statement  of  political  par- 
tics    in    England,"    II,    546-554, 
ch.  10. 
The  explanation  is  manifest,  to-\vit : 
The  importance  of  the  occasion  de- 
mands fulness  of  treatment.     This  is 
best  done  in  long  paragraphs. 
E.     Explanation  of  national,  party  or  indi- 
vidual action. 

(a)      In  shorter,  abbreviated  explanation. 
These  are  in  single  long  paragraphs  of 
one  to  one  and  one-half  pages  in  length. 
See   1.     Explanation   of  Whig   posi- 
tion, I,  528-529. 

2.  Williams's  attitude  towards 
Ireland,  III,  141-142. 

3.  Position  of  Louis  after  the 
abdication  of  James  II,  II, 
497-498. 


116 


4.  James's  new  position  reli- 
giously, II.  188-192. 
(b)  In  longer  exposition:  here  Macau- 
lay  allows  himself  full  liberty  of  ex- 
pression. These  passages  are  found 
only  at  junctures  where  the  writer  feels 
that,  because  of  the  importance  of  the 
events  to  follow,  an  elaborate  exposition 
is  necessary.  See :  ''James's  policy 
when  his  power  was  at  its  height."  Ill, 
13-22. 

Remarks: 

1.  No  paragraph  over  half  a  page. 
All  are  medium. 

2.  Orderly  and  formal  exposition  of 
the  theme. 

3.  Each  paragraph  contains  a  clearly 
circumscribed  portion  of  the  ex- 
position of  the  general  theme. 

4.  No  figure  of  speech,  no  appeal  to 
the  imagination  is  to  be  found. 
Every  statement,  every  para- 
graph, makes  an  appeal  to  reason. 

5.  The  exposition  appears  at  the  be- 
ginning of  an  important  chapter. 
Up  to  that  chapter  Macaulay  has 
related  the  progress  of  James  in 
power.  He  is  now  going  to  trace 
the  decline  of  his  power. 

117 


See  also  :_  11.  122-131— an  excellent 
example  of  Alacaulay's  long  ex- 
position.     The   above   statements 
hold  true  of  this  passage,  except 
that  in  it  are  two  paragraphs  of 
a  page  apiece. 
P.     Macaulay's  manner  of  summarizing  an 
argument   in   one   long  pararaph, — which 
might  otherwise  take  many  paragraphs, — 
suggesting  what  the  debate  was  upon  it, 
or  would  be  likely  to  be  upon  it,  by.  as  it 
were,   questioning  himself   or   the   reader 
on  that  argument  in  a  series  of  interroga- 
tive sentences,   all   within  the   paragraph. 
See    his:     "Observations    on    the    Bill    of 
Rights."     Ill,    356.       The     following    is 
Macaulay's   manner   of   summarizing   the 
debate   in   the   Lords.      In   the   preceding 
paragraph.- — a  link. — he  merely  states  that 
the  bill  passed  the  Commons. 

"The  Declaration  had  settled  the  crown, 
first  on  William  and  Mary  jointly,  then 
on  the  survivor  of  the  two,  then  on  Mary's 
posterity,  then  on  Anne  and  her  posterity, 
and  lastly,  on  the  posterity  of  William  by 
any  other  wife  than  Mary.  The  Bill  had 
been  drawn  in  exact  conformity  with  the 
Declaration.  Who  was  to  succeed  if 
Mary,  Anne,  and  William  should  all  die 

118 


without  posterity  was  left  in  uncertainty. 
Yet  the  event  for  which  no  provision  was 
made  was  far  from  improbable.  Intleed 
it  really  came  to  pass.  William  had  never 
had  a  child.  Anne  had  repeatedly  been  a 
mother,  but  had  no  child  living.  It  would 
not  be  very  strange  if  in  a  few  months 
disease,  war,  or  treason  should  remove 
all  who  stood  in  the  entail.  In  what  state 
would  the  country  then  be  left  ?  To  whom 
would  allegiance  be  due  ?  The  Bill  indeed 
contained  a  clause  which  excluded  Papists 
from  the  throne.  But  would  such  a  clause 
supply  the  place  of  a  clause  designating 
the  successor  by  name  ?  What  if  the  next 
heir  should  be  a  prince  of  the  House  of 
Savoy  not  three  months  old  ?  It  would 
be  absurd  to  call  such  an  infant  a  Papist. 
Was  he  then  to  be  proclaimed  King?  Or 
was  the  crown  to  be  in  abeyance  till  he 
came  to  an  age  at  which  he  might  be 
capable  of  choosing  a  religion?  Might 
not  the  most  honest  and  ^he  most  intelli- 
gent men  be  in  doubt  whether  they  ought 
to  regard  him  as  their  Sovereign?  And 
to  whom  could  they  look  for  a  solution  of 
this  doubt  ?  Parliament  there  would  be 
none :  for  the  Parliament  would  expire 
with   the   prince   who    had    convoked   it. 

119  . 


There  would  be  mere  anarchy,  anarchy 
which  might  end  in  the  destruction  of  the 
monarchy,  or  in  the  destruction  of  pubhc 
hberty.  For  these  weighty  reasons,  Bur- 
net, at  Wihiam's  suggestion,  proposed  in 
the  House  of  Lords  that  the  crown  should. 
failing  heirs  of  His  ]\Iajesty's  body,  be 
entailed  on  an  undoubted  Protestant, 
Sophia.  Duchess  of  Brunswick  Lunen- 
berg,  granddaughter  of  James  the  First, 
and  daughter  of  Elizabeth,  Queen  of  Bo- 
hemia." 

Places  Where  MacauJay  is  Apt  to  Intro- 
duce His  Exposition. 
1.     Before  a  long  narrative. 

(a)  To  clear  up  a  view,  state  a  principle, 
l^efore  proceeding  with  the  narrative 
illustrating  the  view  taken  or  the  prin- 
ciple laid  down.  See :  Alacaulay's 
thesis,  "James's  cruelty  was  not  more 
odious  than  his  mercy,"  I,  588-590. 

Re})iark: 

1.  Paragraphs  medium. 

2.  Aim  to  state  thesis  explicitly, 
incisively,  tersely. 

(b)  To  express  and  enforce  a  personal 
opinion. 

See :     The  three  expository  paragraphs 
on  the  Place  Bill,  IV,  407-410. 

120 


Rcviark: 

1.  The  three  paragraphs  are  re- 
spectively one-fourth  of  a  page, 
a  page,  and  a  page  and  a  half. 

2.  The  first  short  paragraph  ex- 
presses the  theme.  In  the  sec- 
ond paragraph  Macanlay  ex- 
patiates on  the  first  half  of  the 
theme ;  in  the  third  paragraph, 
on  the  second  half. 

3.  The  crescendo  paragraph 
length  is  for  climactic  effect. 

(c)     Long,  carefully-expressed  exposition 
at  a  crucial  point  in  the  main  narrative. 
See    again :     James's   policy   when   his 
power  was  at  its  height,  IIi_i3-22^> 
Remark:     Care   is   taken   to   explain 
James's  policy  when  his  power  is 
at  its  height  in  order  that  the  sub- 
sequent   narrative    of    his    decline 
from  power  may  be  understood. 
B.     At  the  end  of  a  long  and  exciting  nar- 
rative here  Macaulay  wishes  to  draw  his 
general    conclusions    from    the    narrative. 
See:     "Conclusions  after  the  account  of 
the  Trial  of  the  Seven  Bishops,"  II,  352- 
356. 

Note  1.     The  paragraphs  are  long. 

2.     They   are   addressed   directly 

121 


to  the  reader  as  the  concki- 
sions  of  the  writer. 
3.  They  point  the  moral  of  the 
preceding  narrative,  have  a 
persuasive  homiletic  tone. 
"It  must  be  remembered  that, 
though  concord  is  ...  . 
calamity  and  peril  often  force 
men  to  combine.  Prosperity 
and  security  often  encourage 
them  to  separate.  Such  mor- 
alizing reminds  the  present 
writer  of  the  close  of  the  first 
chapter  of  George  Eliot's 
"Felix  Holt."  In  truth,  the 
moralizings  at  the  close  of 
many  of  George  Eliot's  chap- 
ters are  not  at  all  unlike 
Macaulay's  conclusion  of 
chapter  IX. 
See  also:  III,  50-52.  The  results  of 
of  mutiny. 

C.  In  the  midst  of  a  series  of  narrative 
paragraphs,  where  Macaulay  wishes  to 
vindicate  an  action.  See  the  vindication 
of  ^^^^ig  opinion  in  the  midst  of  the  narra- 
tive of  the  progress  of  the  rebellion  of 
Monmouth.  "Albemarle  transmitted  these 
proclamations  .  .  .  ."  I,  528,  ch.  5. 

122 


D.     At  the  beginning  of  a  chapter.    The  ex- 
position is  so  placed  that  the  reader  may 
understand  the  narrative  which  follows. 
See :     First  eight  pages  of  chapter  IX, 
exposition  of  the  change  of  view  of 
the    English    clergy ;    and.    first    ten 
pages  of  charter  VI. 

4.     His  Ability  to  Foniiulafc  the  0[>inions  of 
Pactions  or   to   Suiuunvirjc   Docmiicnts 
ill   Brilliant   General  Statement. 
A.     Summary  exposition  of  documents. 
There    are    times    when    historians    must 
give  the  substance  of  documents  in  order 
to  justify  their  statements.     This  Macau- 
lay    did    in    many    ways,    sometimes    in    a 
sentence  or  two,  sometimes  in  half  a  para- 
graph.    He  seldom  incorporates  the  exact 
words  of  any  document,  but  gives  a  sum- 
mary in  his  own  language. 

See :     Jacobite   libels,   William    Ander- 

ton.  W,  477-478 — the  latter  half  of 

the  paragraph. 

R.     Occasionally  he  gives  the  substance  of 

a  document   ostensibly   as   if  quoted,   but 

really  in  his  own  language. 

See  :     The  "complete  and  triumpliant" 
reply  to  the  Lords,  III,  354-3.S6. 
C.     Formidation  of  opinions  of  factions  in 
brilliant  general  statement. 

123 


Macaulay  has  an  artifice  never  before  ob- 
served by  the  present  writer.  He  composes 
occasionally  a  paragraph,  sometimes  a  series 
of  paragraphs,  in  which  he  throws  brilliant 
general  statement,  not  in  the  third  person, 
but  in  interrogative  sentences  addressed  to 
the  reader.  These  passages  are  almost  al- 
ways in  the  phraseology  of  the  sect,  faction 
or  nationality  whose  opinions  they  represent. 
The  bickerings  of  a  sect  or  faction  are  thus 
made  luminous  to  the  reader.  The  ordinary 
task  of  giving  general  statement  in  plain, 
commonplace  language  is  thus  avoided. 

(a)  Half  of  a  paragraph  in  interroga- 
tive sentences;  the  other  half  summary 
statement  of  document  in  the  third  per- 
son. 

See :  "Indeed  Charnock  in  another 
paper  ....  " — a  paragraph  of  a 
page  in  length,  V,  132-133,  ch.  21. 

(b)  The  bulk  of  a  paragraph  in  interrog- 
ative sentences. 

( 1 )  One  paragraph  of  a  page.  See  : 
"The  Bill  of  Attainder,"  V,  198-199. 

(2)  One  paragraph  of  a  page  and  a 
half.  Interrogative  sentences  ;  phrase- 
ology of  the  period. 

"As  King  of  Scotland,  he  soon  found 
himself  embarrassed  at  every  step  by 

124 


all  the  difficulties  which  had  embar- 
rassed him  as  King  of  England,  and 
by  other  difficulties  which  in  England 
were  happily  unknown.  In  the  north 
of  the  island,  no  class  was  more  dis- 
satisfied with  the  Revolution  than  the 
class  which  owed  most  to  the  Revolu- 
tion. The  manner  in  which  the  Con- 
vention had  decided  the  question  of 
ecclesiastical  polity  had  not  been 
more  offensive  to  the  Bishops  them- 
selves than  to  those  fiery  Covenanters 
wdio  had  long,  in  defiance  of  sword 
and  carbine,  boot  and  gibbet,  wor- 
ship]:)ed  their  Maker  after  their  own 
fashion  in  caverns  and  on  mountain 
tops.  Was  there  ever,  these  zealots 
exclaimed,  such  a  halting  between 
two  opinions,  such  a  compromise  be- 
tzwcii  the  Lord  and  Baalf  The  Es- 
tates ought  to  have  said  that  e])isco- 
pacy  was  an  abomination  in  (iod's 
sight,  and  that,  in  obedience  to  his 
word,  and  from  fear  of  his  righteous 
judgment,  they  were  determined  to 
deal  with  this  great  national  sin  and 
scandal  after  the  fashion  of  those 
saintly  rulers  who  of  old  cut  down 
the  groves  and  demolished  the  altars 


125 


of  Chcmosh  and  Astarfe.  Unhappily, 
Scotland  was  ruled,  not  by  pious  Jo- 
siahs.  but  by  careless  Gallios.  The 
antichristian  hierarchy  was  to  be  abol- 
ished, not  because  it  was  an  insult 
to  heaven,  but  because  it  was  felt  as 
a  burden  on  earth ;  not  because  it  was 
hateful  to  the  great  Head  of  the 
Church,  but  because  it  was  hateful 
to  the  people.  Was  public  opinion, 
then,  the  test  of  right  and  wrong  in 
religion  ?  Was  not  the  order  which 
Christ  had  established  in  his  own 
house  to  be  held  equally  sacred  in  all 
countries  and  through  all  ages?  And 
was  there  no  reason  for  following 
that  order  in  Scotland,  except  a  rea- 
son which  might  be  urged  with  equal 
force  for  maintaining  Prelacy  in  Eng- 
land, Popery  in  Spain,  and  Mahomet- 
anism  in  Turkey?  Why.  too.  was 
nothing  said  of  those  Covenants 
which  the  nation  had  so  generally 
subscribed  and  so  generally  violated  ? 
Why  was  it  not  distinctly  affirmed 
that  the  promises  set  down  in  those 
rolls  were  still  binding^,  and  would  to 
the  end  of  time  be  binding,  on  the 
kingdom?     Were  these  truths  to  be 


126 


suppressed  from  regard  for  the  feel- 
ings  and   interests   of  a   prince   who 
was  all  things  to  all  men.  an  ally  of 
the   idolatrous    Spaniard   and   of   the 
Lutheran  Dane,  a  presbyterian  at  the 
Hague  and  a  prelatist  at  Whitehall? 
He,  like  Jehu   in  ancient  times,  had 
doubtless  so  far  done  well  that  he  had 
been    the   scourge    of   the   idolatrous 
House  of  Ahab.     But  he,  like  Jehu, 
had  not  taken   heed   to  walk   in   the 
divine  law  with  his  whole  heart,  but 
had  tolerated  and  practised  impieties 
differing  only  in  degree   from   those 
of    which    he    had    declared    himself 
the  enemy.     It  would  have  better  be- 
come  godly   senators   to   remonstrate 
with  him   on   the   sin   which   he   was 
committing    by    conforming    to    the 
Anglican  ritual,  and  by  maintaining 
the     Anglican     Church     government, 
than  to  flatter  him  by  using  a  [phrase- 
ology which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
thev    were    a^    deeply    tainted    with 
Erastianism    as    himself.      Many    of 
those  who  held  this  language  refused 
to  do   any   act  which   could  be   con- 
strued into  a  recognition  of  the  new 
Sovereigns,   and    would   rather   have 


127 


been  fired  upon  by  files  of  musket- 
eers, or  tied  to  stakes  within  low 
water  mark,  than  have  uttered  a 
prayer  that  God  would  bless  William 
and  Mary."  Ill,  268-269. 
(3)  One  remarkable  paragraph  of 
five  pages  in  length,  couched  in 
phraseology  of  the  time  and  in  in- 
terrogative sentences.  IV,  152-156. 
"Sherlock  took  the  oaths  .  .  .  .  " 

(c)  The  use  of  the  interrogative  is  also 
a  favorite  device  of  Macaulay's  for  sug- 
gesting what  an  argument  might  be  at 
a  given  time,  or  what  might  be  the  ex- 
planation of  certain  circumstances. 

See:     III,    365.      "The    fall    of    the 
man  once  so  great "  ch.  14. 

(d)  A  series  of  paragraphs  containing 
the  interrogative  device. 

1.  In   four  paragraphs.     See   "The 
Anglican  Church,"  III,  396-400. 

2.  In  a  long  series  of  paragraphs. 
See  :     The  Comprehension  Bill  and 

Bill  of  Allegiance  and  Suprem- 
acy.   Ill,  90-105,  ch.  ii. 
Remarks: 

1.  The  long  paragraphs  are  im- 
itations of  the  long-winded 
argumentation  of  the  party  or 
sectarian  controversialists. 

128 


2.  They  are  declamatory. 

3.  They  are  not  tlie  argument 
of  one  man,  but  of  a  faction. 

4.  Instead  of  giving  many 
pages  to  the  dry  matter  of  de- 
bate, Macaulay  used  this  de- 
vice to  give  hfe  to  the  work. 

5.     Exposition  Leading  to  Argument. 

It  is  in  the  nature  of  exposition  to  lead  into 
argumentation,  or  the  support  of  one  side  of 
a  question  by  arguments.     Macaulay's  intense 
])arty-spirit  and  his  parliamentary  experience 
induced  him  in  his  History  to  enter  spasmod- 
ically into  argumentation  on  his  own  account. 
Macaulay's   arguments   may  be   divided   into; 
(a)  vindication;  (b)  refutation.    Besides  these 
there  are  found  in  the  History  (c)  statements 
of    arguments,    urged    against    individuals    or 
sects,  by  persons  other  than  Macaulay. 
(a)     Vindication. 
See:     "The  Place  Bill,"  IV,  407-410. 
Note:     1.     There  are  three  paragraphs, 
with    a    gradual    increase    in 
size. 
2.     The  first  is  the  assertion  of 
a    general    proposition.     The 
second    argues    for    the    first 
half  of  the  proposition.    The 
third,  a  page  and  a  half  long, 

129 


supports   the   second   half  of 
the  proposition. 

3.  The  paragraph-subject  is 
put  at  the  beginning  of  each 
paragraph. 

4.  No  figures  ;  dignified  ;  per- 
suasive ;  consistently  argu- 
mentative in  tone. 

See  also:     IV,  492-495.     Origin  of  the 
ministry. 

Note:  1.  The  manner — general  state- 
ment followed  by  argument 
and  narrative. 

2.  The  paragraphs  gradually 
increase  in  size  from  six  to 
twenty-six  lines. 

3.  The    order    of    paragraphs 

(1)  Preliminary    statement: 

(2)  The  new  Institution — the 
ministry;  (3)  the  modern 
ministry;  (4)  the  origin  of 
the  ministry. 

(b)     Refutation. 
See:     I\\  544-546.     "The  Land  Bank." 
Note  :      ( 1 )  The  statement  of  the  ques- 
tion ;    (2)    the   exposition    of   its   ab- 
surdity. 
See  also:     V,   195,   §  2.     The  argument 
of  the  Whigs  on  the  case  of  Fenwick. 

130 


Note :  (\)  Ari^iiment  condensed  in- 
to one  caustic  medium  paragraph ; 
(2)  the  incisiveness  of  the  lan- 
guage. 
Remark:  (1)  Macaulay's  refutation 
is  always  given  summarily  in  one 
to  three  medium  paragraphs ;  (2) 
always  stated  in  incisive  language.  •^^ 

(c)  Statement  of  the  arguments  of  others. 
This  is  midway  between  argument  and 
pure  exposition.  See  :  The  arguments 
against  William  Anderton.  IV,  479- 
481. 

Note:  (1)  Macaulay  states  the  ar- 
guments furnished  by  others  and 
then  discusses  their  truthfulness  or 
falsity;  (2)  The  mood  is  calm, 
paragraphs  medium. 
6.     Expository  Description. 

Many  passages  in  the  History  are  a  blend- 
ing of  exposition  and  description.  Here  the 
aim  is  undoubtedly  to  explain  a  condition  of 
things — the  general  character  of  a  people  (for 
example,  Hollanders,  French,  Irish.  Scotch), 
or  the  prevailing  tone  of  a  place,  or  the  dom- 
inant ideas  of  a  period,  or  the  spirit  of  a  litera- 
ture :  nevertheless,  the  details  are  all  descript- 
ive. A  close  examination  of  the  celebrated 
chapter  on   England  in   1685  will  reveal  the 

131 


fact  that  in  it  are  many  expository  descriptive 
passag^es.  Two  examples  selected  from  many 
in  that  chapter  represent  this  artifice,  called 
expository  description. 

(1)  "It  would  have  been  well  if  our  writ- 
ers had  also  copied  the  decorum  which 
their  great  French  contemporaries,  with 
few  exceptions,  preserved ;  for  the  prof- 
ligacy of  the  English  plays,  satires,  songs, 
and  novels  of  that  age  is  a  deep  blot  on 
our  national  fame.  The  evil  may  easily 
be  traced  to  its  source.  The  2i'its  and  the 
Puritans  had  never  he  en  on  friendly  terms. 
There  was  no  sympathy  between  the  tzvo 
classes.  They  looked  on  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  human  life  from  different  points 
and  in  different  lights.  The  earnest  of 
each  was  the  jest  of  the  other.  The  pleas- 
ures of  each  were  the  torments  of  the 
other.  To  the  stern  precisian  even  the 
innocent  sport  of  the  fancy  seemed  a 
crime.  To  light  and  festive  natures  the 
solemnity  of  the  zealous  brethren  furnish- 
ed copious  matter  of  ridicule.  From  the 
Reformation  to  the  civil  war,  almost  every 
uriter,  gifted  with  a  fine  sense  of  the 
ludicrous,  had  taken  some  opportunity  of 
assailing  the  straighthaired.  snuffling, 
whining  saints,  who  christened  their  chil- 


132 


dren  out  of  the  Book  of  Nehemiah,  who 
groaned  in  spirit  at  the  sight  of  Jack  in 
the  Circen,  and  who  thought  it  impious  to 
taste  plum  porridge  on   Christmas  day." 
I,  361-362,  ch.  3. 
(2)     "The  spirit  of  the  Antipuritan  reaction 
pervades  almost  the  whole  polite  literature 
of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second.     But 
the  very  quintessence  of  that  spirit  will  be 
found   in    the   comic   drama.      The   play- 
houses,  shut  by  the  meddling   fanatic  in 
the  day  of  his  power,  were  again  crowded. 
To   their   old   attractions   new    and   more 
powerful     attractions     had     been    added. 
Scenery,  dresses,  and  decorations,  such  as 
would  now  be  thought  mean  or  absurd, 
but  such  as  would  have  been  esteemed  in- 
credibly magnificent  by  those  who,  early 
in    the   seventeenth   century,   sate   on   the 
filthy  benches  of  the  Hope,  or  under  the 
thatched  roof  of  the  Rose,  dazzled  the  eyes 
of  the  multitude.     The  fascination  of  sex 
was   called   in   to   aid   the   fascination   of 
art :   and   the  young  spectator   saw,   with 
emotions  unknown  to  the  contemporaries 
of  Shakespeare  and  Johnson,  tender  and 
sprightly    heroines    personated    by    lovely 
women.    From  the  day  on  which  the  the- 
atres  were    reopened   they   became   sem- 

183 


inaries  of  vice ;  and  tlic  vice  propagated 
itself.  The  profligacy  of  the  representa- 
tions soon  drove  away  soher  people.  The 
frivolous  and  dissolute  who  remained  re- 
quired every  year  stronger  and  stronger 
stimulants.  Thus  the  artists  corrupted  the 
spectators,  and  the  spectators  the  artists, 
till  the  turpitude  of  the  dranm  became  such 
as  must  astonish  all  ivho  are  not  azvare 
that  extreme  relaxation  is  the  natural  effect 
of  extreme  restraint,  and  that  an  age  of 
hypocrisy  is,  in  the  regular  course  of 
things,  followed  by  an  age  of  impudence." 
I,  364-365,  ch.  3. 

Note:  (1)  Macaulay  is  giving  an  ex- 
position, in  short  comjJass.  of  the 
"war  of  the  wits  and  Puritans"  as  it 
was  carried  on  "from  the  Reforma- 
tion to  the  Civil  War."  He  finds  the 
"source"  of  profligacy  in  the  "differ- 
ent points"  and  "different  lights"  of 
the  two  classes. 
Note:  (2)  Macaulay  is  attempting  to 
give  the  ciuintessence  of  the  spirit  of 
anti-puritanism.  The  beginning  and 
end  show  the  expository  mood  of  the 
writer. 
In  both :  The  descriptive  details  il- 
lustrate the  generalizations. 

134 


7.     Macaulay's  Manner  of  Formulating  Gen- 
eral Law,  Idea  and  Relation. 
A.     General  Law. 

Of  law,  in  the  strict  sense,  there  is  none 
in  the  History.  Frequently,  however,  as  is 
true  of  most  historians,  Macaulay  states  a 
generality  which  usually,  though  not  always, 
holds  true.  Such  an  one  is  the  "Tenrlency 
of  the  English  Constitution,"  IV,  222-223 — 
a  generality  on  the  growth  of  the  English 
Constitution. 

B.     General  Idea. 

More  frequently  the  historian  sets  forth 
with  positiveness  general  ideas  which  have 
struck  him  as  true  under  given  conditions 
and  in  given  situations.  Macaulay  always 
states  these  impressions  boldly  and  proceeds 
to  substantiate  them.  The  idea,  its  expan- 
sion, and  its  substantiation  cover  anywhere 
from  one  to  three  paragraphs. 
Thus : 

(a)      In  one  paragraph. 

1.     "The  constancy  of  the  common  peo- 
ple."   I,  565. 

Note  :  ( 1 )  He  attempts  to  establish 
the  general  truth  by  showing  the 
constancy  of  the  common  people  in 
several  crises.  (2)  The  size  of  the 
paragraph  equals  one  page.      (3) 

135 


The  general  statement  made  at  the 
beginning  is  enforced  at  the  end." 
2.     "Ministers     are     responsible."       IV, 
120-121,  ch.  17. 

Note :  Macaulay  lays  down  three 
propositions  and  attempts  to  de- 
duce from  them  the  right  of  Wil- 
liam to  be  his  own  Foreign  Secre- 
tary. 
3.  Lewis's  relation  to  James  II.  IV, 
489. 

Note:  (1)  Macaulay  states  the  re- 
lationship, then  says,  "This  in  truth 
was  the  point  on  which  everything 
turned."  (2)  All  Lewis's  thought 
made  to  revolve  around  this  pivotal 
sentence, 
(b)      In  two  paragraphs. 

1.  James's  "cruelty  was  not  more 
odious  than  his  mercy" — a  general 
truth  about  the  character  of  an  in- 
dividual.   I,  588-590. 

Note  :  ( 1 )  Two  paragraphs,  short 
and  medium.  (2)  Macaulay 's 
plan  is  to  substantiate  his  prop- 
osition, which  he  calls  a  "rule," 
that  the  leaders  of  a  rebellion  are 
the  only  ones  who  should  be  pun- 
ished. 

136 


2.  "The  violence  of  revolutions  is  c:en- 
erally  proportional  to  the  degree  of 
maladministration  which  has  pro- 
duced them."  Beginning  of  ch.  13. 
Note:  (1)  Two  large  paragraphs. 
(2)  Statement  proven  hy  historic 
fact, 
(c)      In  three  paragraphs. 

Defense  of  the  proposition  :  that  the 
prosecution  of  the  Seven  Bishops  was 
the  first  and  last  time  when  the  na- 
tion was  united   in   love  of   freedom 

and  church.    }]^_^^^Z^^^::~-~- '--■ 

Note:  (1)  Three  paragraphs  de- 
creasing in  size  from  one  page  to  a 
quarter  of  a  page.  (2)  Passing 
from  the  heat  of  a  vivid  description 
to  the  defence  of  above  proposition 
at  the  close. 
C.     General  Relation. 

jNlacaulay,  who  is  ever  finding  particular 
relations,  analogies,  comparisons  and  con- 
trasts, finds  also  general  relations,  influences 
of  one  thing  upon  another,  wrong  attitudes 
producing  wrong  results,  necessity  produc- 
ing political  action,  etc. 

(a)  See:  "The  two  errors  into  which 
historians  are  liable  to  fall."  II,  217- 
220,  ch.  7.    Introducing  the  subject,  the 

137 


writer  says :  There  are  two  opposite 
errors  into  which  those  who  study  the 
annals  of  our  country  are  in  constant 
clanger  of  falling,  the  error  of  judging 
the  present  by  the  past,  and  the  error 
of  judging  the  past  by  the  present." 
He  then  shows  the  relationship  between 
the  two,  the  resemblances  and  differ- 
ences, and  applies  the  statement  to  the 
historians  of  the  Revolution.  Note : 
(1)  The  paragraphs  are  medium  and 
short — two  short,  three  medium.  (2) 
In  the  first  paragraph  the  two  errors 
ai-e  compared.  In  the  second  the  prop- 
osition is  applied  to  the  contest  over 
admitting  Romanists  to  parliament.  In 
the  third,  the  views  of  factions  are  com- 
pared. In  the  fourth  and  fifth  comes 
the  conclusion  as  below  : 

"Perhaps,  however,  it  will  be  found 
on  examination  that  we  may  vin- 
dicate the  course  which  was  unan- 
imously approved  by  all  the  great 
English  statesmen  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  without  questioning 
the  wisdom  of  the  course  which 
was  as  unanimously  approved  by  all 
the  great  English  statesmen  of  our 
own  time. 

138 


"Undoubtedly  it  is  an  evil  that  any 
citizen  should  be  excluded  from 
civil  employment  on  account  of  his 
religious  opinions,  but  a  choice  be- 
tween evils  is  sometimes  all  that  is 
left  to  human  wisdom.  A  nation 
may  be  placed  in  such  a  situation 
that  the  majority  must  either  im- 
pose disabilities  or  submit  to  them, 
and  that  what  would,  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  be  justly  con- 
demned as  |)ersecution,  may  fall 
within  the  bounds  of  legitimate 
self-defence :  and  such  was  in  the 
year  1687  the  situation  of  Eng- 
land." 
(b)  See:  IV,  394-395,  ch.  19.  Note: 
(1)  Proposition.  "The  truth  is,  society 
in    the    natural    course    of    its    growth 

reached  a  point   that,  if  there 

were  a  long  and  costly  war,  there  should 
be  a  national  debt."  (2)  Subject,  the 
relation  between  the  needs  of  the  time 
and  some  such  financial  measure  as  the 
national  debt.  (3)  Two  long  para- 
graphs by  comparing  England  of  the 
past  with  England  of  1688.  and  by  com- 
paring the  country  as  a  whole  with  the 
Continent.  Macaulay  proves  the  need 
of  a  national  debt  at  that  time. 

139 


8.  Macaulay's  Faults  as  an  Expositor — His 
Over-statement  and  Understatement. 

The  subject  of  this  treatise  does  not  require 
us  to  go  afield  into  a  discussion  of  the  historic 
truthfuhiess  or  untruthfuhiess  of  Macaulay's 
work.  Nevertheless,  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  rhetorician  it  is  evident  that  the  History  is 
full  of  exaggeration  and  depreciation.  Macau- 
lay's use  of  exaggeration  and  hyperbole  will 
be  treated  in  another  chapter.  So  full  of  rhe- 
torical artifices  vi^as  Macaulay,  so  eager  to  make 
forcible,  not  to  say  startling,  statements,  that 
he  did  not  stop  to  nicely  measure  the  truth. 
He  was  as  fond  of  astonishing  generalities  as 
of  astonishing  pictures.  He  did  not  scruple  to 
exaggerate  a  general  relationship  any  more 
than  to  exaggerate  a  character-description.  He 
aimed  at  making  a  strong  and  profound  im- 
pression. He  was  first  and  last  a  great  rhet- 
orician. 

Calmer  minds,  therefore,  although  they  usu- 
ally find  Macaulay,  at  first  blush,  plausible,  on 
closer  study  cannot  avoid  noticing  his  many  ex- 
travagances. Their  scrutiny  once  aroused,  they 
peruse  many  a  passage  only  to  be  unconvinced. 
They  see,  as  Kipling  says,  "another  story," 
unwritten  truth,  as  well  as  "over-statement  and 
under-statement." 


140 


SECTION  B-EXPRESSION 


CHAPTER  VI 

GENERAL  QUALITIES  OF  EXPRESSION 


(A)     Clearness. 
1.     Macaiilay's  Choice  of  Language. 

If  there  is  one  thing  for  which  Macaulay 
is  remarkable  above  all  Enj^^Ush  men  of  let- 
ters, it  is  for  his  clearness.    There  is  nothing 
in  all  the  History  that  is  not  understood  on 
the  instant.      Macaulay  never  wrote  a  bun- 
filing  statement,  nor  an  obscure  line.     If  one 
were  asked  the  three  chief  charcteristics  of 
Macaulay's   style,  one  nmst   say — clearness, 
exaltation,  brilliance.     To  these  one  might 
add :  grace^  stateliness,  vigor.     It  is  remark- 
able that  throughout  the  essays  and  the  His- 
tory   the    words    which    are    continually    in 
Macaulay's     mouth     in     commendation     of 
speeches   and  writings   are  the   very  words 
which  characterize  his  own  style.  Everyone 
who  has  read  the  Essays  will  remember  how 
the  great  writer  eulogized  writings  marked 
by  dignity,  stateliness,  vigor.     Excellent  in- 

141 


stances  are  his  remarks  on  Madame  D'Arb- 
lay,  Maria  Erlj^eworth  and  Jane  Austen ; 
though,  indeed,  he  never  fails  to  note  these 
characteristics  in  any  writer.  In  the  History, 
hkewise,  the  favourite  words  are  constantly 
recurring.  He  speaks  of:  "the  vigorous  and 
fertile  genius  of  Butler"  (I.  263.  ch.  3)  :  "of 
lyric  poets  he  (Dryden)  is,  if  not  the  most 
sublime,  the  most  brilliant  and  •^on]-stirring" 
(T,  366,  ch.  3).  The  libels  of  Montgomery 
"are  distinguished  by  the  grace  and  vigor 
of  their  style"  fTV.  86,  ch.  16).  Macaulay 
naturally  had  a  fondness  for  those  character- 
istics of  style  for  which  his  own  style  was 
distinguished.  Of  all  the  characteristics 
which  fascinated  him.  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant is  clearness.  There  have  been  great 
writers  of  prose,  like  Milton,  whose  stvle 
is  exalted  but  not  always  clear.  There  have 
been  brilliant  writers  of  prose,  like  Landor, 
whose  work  has  not  always  been  perspicu- 
ous. It  is  the  feat  of  the  greatest  writers 
of  prose  to  unite  exaltation  and  brilliance 
with  clearness.  Macaulay  is  distinsruished 
precminentlv  for  this  union  :  it  is  his  highest 
mark  of  merit. 

The  clearness,  as  well  as  the  brilliance  and 
exaltation  of  ?kTacaulay's  style,  is,  as  the 
great  writer  himself  might  say,  "known  to 

142 


every  school-boy."     The  knowledge  of  the 
care  he  exercised  in  the  choice  of  language, 
his  steady  toil,  his  incessant  revision  of  his 
text,  the  agony  he  underwent  preceding  his 
transport  of  joy  at  the  adulation  of  press 
and    people    at    the    publication — must    be 
learned   from   the  testimony  of   his   friends 
and  relatives.  "Take  at  hazard."  says  Thack- 
eray, "any  three  pages  of  the  'Essays'  or  the 
'History,"  and  glimmering  below  the  stream 
of  the  narrative,  you,  an  average  reader,  see 
one,  two,  three,  or  half  score  of  allusions 
to  other  historic  facts,  characters,  literature, 
poetry,  with  which  you  are  acquainted.  Your 
neighbor,  who  has  his  reading  and  his  little 
stock  of  literature  stowed  away  in  his  mind, 
shall    detect   many   points,    allusions,    happy 
touches,  indicating  not  only  the  prodigious 
memory  and   vast  learning  of  this   master, 
but  the  wonderful  hidustry,  the  honest,  hum- 
ble toil  of  this  great  scholar.  He  read  hccnty 
books  to  -uritc  a  sentence:  he  travelled  a  hun- 
dred miles  to  make  a  line  of  description." 
These    generous   words   of   Thackeray's   on 
Macaulay's   brilliance    and    industry    receive 
the  cordial  ajiprobation  of  Trevelyan  in  the 
following  words :     "Any  one  who  will  turn 
to   the    description    of    the   town   of   Leeds, 
and  will  read  the  six  paragraphs  that  pre- 


cede  it  and  the  three  that  follow  it,  may 
form  a  conception  of  the  pains  which  those 
clear  and  flowing  periods  must  have  cost  an 
author  ivho  expended  on  the  pointing  of  a 
phrase  as  tnueh  conscientious  research  as 
would  have  provided  some  writers  who  speak 
of  Macaulay  as  showy  and  shallow  with  at 
least  half  a  dozen  pages  of  ostentatious  sta- 
tistics."* And  the  same  writer  says  else- 
where: "The  main  secret  of  Macaulay's 
success  lay  in  this,  that  to  extraordinary  flu- 
ency and  facility  he  united  patient,  minute, 
and  persistent  diligence."* 
2.     Macaulay's  Painstaking. 

The  gist  of  Trevelyan's  testimony  is  that 
Macaulay's  success  as  a  writer  was  won  by 
compelling  himself  to  exercise  extraordinary 
care  in  the  choice  of  language  and  severe 
scrutiny  in  revision  to  counteract  the  in- 
elegancies  and  errors  which  came  from  ex- 
traordinary facility  in  composition.  In  fine, 
he  was  facile  in  composition  and  painstak- 
ing in  revision.  The  truth  of  both  these 
thoughts  becomes  luminant  from  the  state- 
ment? of  Macaulay  himself  and  his  con- 
temporaries.     'T    had    no    heart    to   write," 


*].  Quoted  by  Trevelyan.  Life  and  Letters  of 
Macaulay.  "Vol.  II.  P.  192.  Harper's  Edit.,  1876,  4426 
D  12.        2.   Ibid.   P.   193. 

•Trevelyan  II.  198. 

144 


says  the  historian  in  his  journal  under  March 
6.   1851.     "I   am  too  self-indulo^ent   in  this 
matter,  it  may  be :  and  yet  I  attribute  much 
of  the  success  which  I  have  had  to  my  habit 
of  writing-  only  when  I  am  in  the  humour, 
and   of  stopping  as   soon   as   thoughts   and 
words  cease  to  flow  fast.    There  are,  there- 
fore,   few   lees   in   my  wine.     It   is   all   the 
cream   of   the  bottle."'      Mr.   Woodrow.   in 
the  preface  to  his  collection  of  the  Indian 
Education  minutes,  says :  "Scarcely  few  con- 
secutive lines  in  any  of  Macaulay's  minutes 
will  be  found  unmarked  by  blots  or  correc- 
tions.    Macaulay  himself,  in  a  minute  dated 
Nov    3,  1835,  says.  'After  blotting  a  great 
deal  of  paper,  T  can  recommend  nothing  but 
a    reference    to    the    Governor-General    in 
Council.'     My  copyist  was  always  able  in- 
stantly to  single  out  his  writing  by  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  corrections  and  blots  which  mark 
every  page.     When  the  first  master  of  the 
English  language  corrects  his  own  composi- 
tion,   which   appeared    faultless   before,   the 
correction  my^T'must  be  based  on  the  high- 
est rules  of  criticism. "2 


1.   Trevelyan    II.    199.       2.    Quoted    by    Trevelyan. 
footnote,  II.  199. 

145 


3.     His    Directness.     The    Siinplicity    and 
Shortne,ss  of  His  Sentences,   Hence 
the  Perspicuity. 
A.     His  directness. 

[Nlacaulay's  sneers  at  philosophy  and  his 
neglect  of  mathematics  are  well  known. 
The  extreme  result  of  extensive  studies  in 
speculative  philosophy  is  probably  to  make 
the  student  subtle  in  his  refinements  of 
thought,  very  wary  about  accepting  con- 
clusions, always  deeming  reasons  inade- 
quate or  questionable.  For  this  state  of 
mind  Macaulay  had  an  abhorrence.  He 
disliked  involved  construction  which 
seems  usually  to  be  the  concomitant  of 
speculation.  He  may  speculate,  but  he 
has  his  speculation  so  well  thought  out, 
and  is  so  certain  of  the  truth  of  his  con- 
clusions that  he  delivers  his  thought  with 
directness,  usually  without  qualification. 
If  he  admits  any  qualification  he  gives  it 
either  in  the  second  half  of  a  short  bal- 
anced sentence  separatefl  from  the  first 
section  bv  a  semicolon,  or  else  in  a  short, 
independent  sentence.  In  either  case  the 
qualification  is  expressed  as  positively  as 
the  main  thought. 

B.     Simplicity     and     shortness     of     sen- 
tences. 


146 


Macaulay  seldom  used  long  sentences 
except  in  oratorical  eiilog}''  (see  the  close 
of  chap.  17  of  the  History)  ;  even  here 
short  sentences  predominate.  Macau- 
lay's  sentences  are  not  only  short  but 
simple.  A  short  sentence  may  be  as 
blundering  and  obscure  as  a  long  one. 
The  vast  majority  of  Macaulay's  sen- 
tences are  short  and  simple. 
C.     His  perspicuity. 

Macaulay's  perspicuity  is  due :  first,  to 
the  usual  simplicity  of  thought  in  his  writ- 
ing, as  opposed  to  subtlety  of  thinking; 
second,  to  one  characteristic  of  the  man — 
his  "cocksureness."  hence  his  directness; 
third,  to  the  delivery  of  his  thought  in 
short,  simple  sentences.  Macaulay's  was 
certainly  a  studied  style.  He  exerted 
himself  to  make  every  line  limpid.  Yet, 
though  there  are  not  many  refinements  of 
thinking  in  the  History ;  though  there  was, 
as  Trevelyan  states,  strenuous  endeavor 
to  be  lucid,  Macaulay.  nevertheless,  al- 
ways writes  as  if  "to  the  manner  born," 
with  elegant  ease  and  unostentatious  sim- 
plicity.* 


*"The  fourth  sense  of  simplicity  also  respects 
stvle:  but  it  regards  not  as  much  the  degree  of 
ornament  employed  as  the  easv  and  natural  man- 
ner in  which  our  language  expresses  our  thoughts. 
In  this  sense  simplicity  is  compatible  with  the 
147 


( B )     Force. 

1.     Device  for  Carrying  the  Reader  on,  and 
Raising  Him  to  a  High  Pitch  of  Ex- 
citement. 
A.     The    various    forms    of    climax    and 
anticlimax. 

(a)      1.     The     strict     climactic     para- 
graph. 
This  is  one  of  the  common- 
est    artifices      in      Macaulay. 
Whenever    the    occasion    per- 
mits,— at    those    times    in    the 
discussion   of  a  subject  when 
a   climactic  paragraph   can  be 
utilized, — he  never  fails  to  use 
this    kind    of    climax.      Such 
paragraphs    are    rounded    off 
with  startling  effect. 
2.     The  climactic  paragraph  end- 
ing in  an  anticlimax. 
Alacaulay's  manner  is  to  fin- 
ish  the  climax  a   sentence   or 
two   before    the    close   of    the 
paragraph,    then    to   close   the 
paragraph    with    anticlimax — 

highest  ornament.  Homer,  for  example,  possesses 
this  simplicity  in  the  greatest  perfection:  and  yet 
no  writer  lias  more  ornament  and  beautv.  This 
simplicity  is  opposed  not  to  ornament,  hut  to  af- 
fectation of  ornament,  and  is  a  superior  excellence 
in  composition."  Blair's  Lectures  on  Style,  P.  103. 
148 


with    a    few    ordinary    state- 
ments having  the  effect  of  re- 
pose   after    excitement.     See: 
the     description     of     Luxem- 
bourg just  before  the  battle  of 
Steinkirk.     IV,  353,  ch.  19. 
3.     A    climactic    paragraph     fol- 
lowed by  a  paragraph  al- 
together anti-climactic. 
This   is  of   frequent  occur- 
rence ;    a   notable    example   is 
found  at  the  close  of  the  de- 
scription of  the  trial  and  exe- 
cution of  Monmouth.     I,  560- 
563.     Macaulay  closes  the  de- 
scription with  remarks  on  St. 
Peter's   chapel    in    the    Tower 
where  Monmouth  was  buried. 
The  effect  of  the  anti-climax 
is  marvelous, 
(b)     Climax  in  the  paragraph  series. 
Hardly  any  section  of  the  History 
is   without   climaxes   at   one   or   two 
points,  and  usually  at  several  points 
in  the  narrative  series.     No  one  knew 
better  than  Macaulay  at  what  point 
in  the  story  to  raise  the  pitch  of  ex- 
citement, and  of  that  point  he  never 
failed  to  take  advantage :     See :    His 

149 


account  of  the  parliamentary  pro- 
ceedings against  Fenwick,  V,  192-213. 
Note :  Here  the  interest  centers  in 
two  long  paragraphs,  the  first,  on  the 
examination  of  the  witnesses, — a  sin- 
gle paragraph  of  two  and  a  half 
pages ;  the  second,  on  the  incident  of 
Lady  Fenwick, — written  in  a  single 
paragraph  of  three  pages. 

Notice:  (1)  How  the  interest  is 
made  to  rise  as  we 
approach  these  two 
paragraphs. 

(2)  The  climax  is   found 

in  the  single  para- 
graph of  three 
pages. 

(3)  The    anti-climax,   ap- 

pearing in  the  se- 
verely simple  de- 
scription of  the  ex- 
ecution in  a  medi- 
um paragraph,  is 
made  more  im- 
pressive by  sus- 
pending the  anti- 
climax until  the 
contrast  between 
the   fate  of  Peter- 

150 


borough    and    that 
of    Shrewsbury    is 
drawn, 
(c)    At  the  close  of  a  chapter. 
See:    Close  of  ch.   17,  IV,  209-214. 
The   climax   begins    in   a   short    sen- 
tence, "The  sails  disappeared,"  open- 
ing a  long  paragraph.    Note:  (1)  the 
exaltation    of    the    magnificent    long 
paragraphs.     (2)  Macaulay's  depart- 
ure from  his  habit  of  short  sentences 
and  free  use  of  long  sentences  on  the 
last   page.     The    climax    closes    the 
Revolution   in   Ireland. 
B.     Oratorical  Eulogy. 

There   are   two   excellent    examples   of 
oratorical  Eulogy  in  the  History: 

(a)     End  of  volume  II,  588-595,  ch. 
10. 

Note:  1.  The  spirit  of  eulogy  was 
upon  Macaulay.  The 
passage  begins : 
"Thus  was  consummated 
the  English  Revolution. 
When  we  compare  it 
with  those  revolutions 
which  have,  during  the 
last  sixty  years,  over- 
thrown so  many  ancient 

151 


governments,  we  can- 
not but  be  struck  by  its 
peculiar  character.  Why 
that  character  was  so 
pecuHar  is  sufficiently 
obvious,  and  yet  seems 
not  to  have  been  always 
understood  either  by 
eulogists  or  by  cen- 
sors." 
Later  on  we  read  :  "The 
highest  eulogy  which 
can  be  pronounced  on 
the  revolution  of  1688 
is  this,  that  it  was  our 
last  revolution,"  etc. 

2.  The   subject   of   the   eu- 

logy, then,  is  the  Revo- 
lution of  1688. 

3.  There    is    a    studied    ex- 

altation of  language. 
The  spirit  of  the  writer 
rose  higher  and  higher 
as  he  proceeded. 

4.  The  paragraphs  increase 

in  size. 

5.  The  last  paragraph  is  evi- 

dently peroration.  It 
begins : 

152 


"Now,  if  ever,  we  ought 
to  be  able  to  appreciate 
the  whole  importance 
of  the  stand  which  was 
made  by  our  forefa- 
thers against  the  House 
of  Stuart.  All  around 
us  the  world  is  con- 
vulsed by  the  agonies 
of  great  nations.  Gov- 
ernments which  lately 
seemed  likely  to  stand 
during  ages  have  been 
on  a  sudden  shaken  and 
overthrown.  The  proud- 
est capitals  of  Western 
Europe  have  streamed 
with  civil  blood.  All 
evil  passions,  the  thirst 
of  gain  and  the  thirst 
of  vengeance,"  etc. 

and  ends : 

"are  wildly  and  blindly 
seeking  to  regain.  It 
is  because  we  had  a  pre- 
serving revolution  in 
the  seventeenth  century 
that  we  have  not  had  a 
destroying  revolution  in 

153 


the  nineteenth.  Tt  is 
because  we  had  free- 
dom in  the  midst  of 
servitude  that  we  have 
order  in  the  midst  of 
anarchy.  For  the  au- 
thority of  law,  for 
the  security  of  proper- 
ty, for  the  peace  of  our 
streets,  for  the  happi- 
ness of  our  homes,  our 
gratitude  is  due,  under 
Him  who  raises  and 
pulls  down  nations  at 
his  pleasure,  to  the 
Long  Parliament,  to  the 
Convention,  and  to  Wil- 
liam of  Orange." 
6.  The  motive  for  the  ora- 
torical eulogy  is  evi- 
dent. It  is  written  as  a 
magnificent  ending  of 
the  first  installment  of 
the  History,  which  was 
ready  in  the  memora- 
ble year  of  revolution, 
1848. 
(b)  The  end  of  volume  IV,  244-250. 
This,  like  the  passage  cited  above,  is 

154 


a  good  specimen  of  oratorical  eulogy. 
Macaulay,  in  every  line,  at  every  point 
of  the  History,  shows  an  eye  and  ear 
for  tlie  reader's  impressibihty.  He 
carefully  chose  an  event  of  the  greatest 
importance  for  closing  his  second  set 
of  volumes  for  publication.  The  close 
of  the  first  set  of  volumes,  published  in 
1848,  gave  him  a  chance  to  eulogize  the 
Revolution.  The  close  of  the  second 
set,  published  in  1857,  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity to  write  an  encomium  of  his 
hero,  William ;  for  he  concludes  the 
fourth  volume  with  the  successful  ac- 
complishment of  William's  efforts,  the 
procession  of  the  King,  the  rejoicings 
of  the  people.  The  wave-movement  of 
the  paragraphs,  the  exaltation  of  the 
language,  the  magnificence  of  the  scene 
are  worthy  of  note.  The  closing  para- 
graph begins : 

"There  was  indeed  reason  for  joy 
and  thankfulness.  England  had  passed 
through  severe  trials,  and  had  come 
forth  renewed  in  health  and  vigour. 
Ten  years  before,  it  had  seemed  that 
both  her  liberty  and  her  independence 
were  no  more.  Her  liberty  she  had 
vindicated  by  a  just  and  necessary  rev- 

165 


olution.  Her  independence  she  had  re- 
conquered by  a  not  less  just  and  neces- 
sary war.  She  had  successfully  de- 
fended the  order  of  things  established 
by  her  Bill  of  Rights  against  the  mighty 
monarchy  of  France,  against  the  abo- 
riginal population  of  Ireland,  against 
the  avowed  hostility  of  the  nonjurors, 
against  the,"  etc. 
And  ends : 

"There  was  a  sense  of  relief  every- 
where, from  the  Royal  Exchange  to  the 
most  secluded  hamlets  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Wales  and  the  fens  of  Lincoln- 
shire.    The  ploughmen,  the  shepherds, 
the  miners  of  the   Northumbrian  coal- 
pits, the  artisans  who  toiled  at  the  looms 
of  Norwich  and  the  anvils  of  Birming- 
ham   felt   the    change,   without    under- 
standing it ;  and  the  cheerful  bustle  in 
every   seaport  and   every  market  town 
indicated,  not  obscurely,  the  commence- 
ment of  a  happier  age." 
2.     Dciicc  for  Holding  the  Reader's  Inter- 
est by  Means  of  Variety. 
With  the  exception  of  Johnson,  there  is 
no  writer  in  modern  English  Literature  who 
delights   so  much   in  balanced   structure  as 
Alacaulay.    He  used  it  to  vary  the  interest  of 

156 


the  reader ;  but  he  cultivated  it  in  so  many 
forms  and  employed  it  so  incessantly  as  to 
produce  in  the  reader  a  feeling  of  satiety. 
He  was  fond  of  balancing  situations,  bal- 
ancing opinions,  balancing  paragraphs  and 
parts  of  paragraphs,  balancing  sentences  and 
parts  of  sentences,  balancing  even  phrases 
and  single  words. 

A.     Balance  in  Sentence. 

1.     Repetition  of  the  same  words  and 
structure  in  each  part. 

Whether,   in    1689.   it   would  have 
been  possible  to  effect  a  civil  union 
without  a  religious  union  may  well  be 
doubted.     But  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that    a    religious    union    would    have 
been   one   of   the   greatest   calamities 
that  could  have  befallen  either  king- 
dom.    The    union    accomplished    in 
1707  has  indeed  been  a  great  bless- 
ing both  to  England  and  to  Scotland. 
But  it  ha^  been  a  blessing  because  in 
constituting    one    State,    it    left    two 
churches.     The    political   interest    of 
the  contractiiig  parties  7vas  the  same; 
but  the  ecclesiastical  dispute  bet-ween 
them  was  one  which  admitted  of  no 
compromise.     They    could    therefore 
preserve  harmony  only  by  agreeing  to 


157 


differ.  Had  there  been  an  amalga- 
mation of  the  hierarchtes,  there  never 
ivonld  have  been  an  amalgamation  of 
the  nations.  Successive  Mitchells 
-cvould  have  fired  at  siicccssi7r  Sharf^s. 
Five  generations  of  Claverhouscs 
iK'oidd  have  butchered  five  genera- 
tions of  Camerons.  Those  marvel- 
lous improvements  which  have 
changed  the  face  of  Scotland  would 
never  have  been  efifected.  Plains  nozv 
rich  with  harvest  would  hai'c  re- 
mained barren  moors.  Waterfalls 
zvhich  noiv  turn  the  wheels  of  im- 
mense factories  zvould  have  resound- 
ed in  a  wilderness.  Nezv  Lanark 
would  still  have  been  a  sheepzvalk, 
and  Greenock  a  fishing  hamlet. 
What  little  strength  Scotland  could, 
under  such  a  system,  have  possessed 
must,  in  an  estimate  of  the  resources 
of  Great  Britain,  have  been,  not  add- 
ed, but  deducted.  So  encumbered 
our  country  never"  III.  22)7.  ch.  13. 
2.  With  semicolon  in  the  middle  of  the 
sentence,  marking  off  the  balance. 
"During  some  months  Sir  John  at 
Edinburgh  affected  to  condemn  the  dis- 
loyalty   of    his    unhappy    parent.     Sir 

168 


James;  and  Sir  James  at  Leyden  told 
his  Puritan  friends  how  deeply  he  la- 
mented the  wicked  compliances  of  his 
unjiappy  child.  Sir  John."  IIT,  244, 
-^13.' 

3.     Sentences   following  each   other   in 
halanced  pairs. 

"This  is  not  an  attractive  picture. 
And  yet  an  enlightened  and  dispas- 
sionate ohserver  would  have  found  in 
the    character    and    manners   of    this 
rude  people  something  which   might 
well    excite    admiration    and    a    good 
hope.     Their  courage  was  what  great 
exploits  achieved  in  all  the  four  quar- 
ters of  the  glohe  have  since  proved  to 
be.    Their  intense  attachment  to  their 
own  tribe  and  to  their  own  patriarch, 
though   politically   a   great   evil,   par- 
took  of   the  nature   of   virtue.     The 
sentiment    was    misdirected    and    ill 
regulated;    but    still    it    was    heroic. 
There  must  be  some  elevation  of  soul 
in   a  man   who  loves   the   society  of 
which  he  is  a  member  and  the  leader 
whom  he  folknvs  with  a  love  stronger 
than  the  love  of  life.      Tt  was  true 
that   the   Tdighlandcr   had    few    scru- 
ples about  shedding  the  blood  of  an 

159 


enemy;  but  it  was  not  less  true  that 
he  had  high  notions  of  the  duty  of 
observing  faith  to  alHes  and  hospital- 
ity to  guests.  It  was  true  that  his 
predatory  habits  were  most  perni- 
cious to  the  commonwealth.  Yet 
those  erred  greatly  who  imagined  that 
he  bore  any  resemblance  to  villains 
who,  in  rich  and  well  governed  com- 
munities, live  by  stealing.  MHien  he 
drove  before  him  the  herds  of  Low- 
land farmers  up  the  pass  which  led 
to  his  native  glen,  he  no  more  con- 
sidered himself  as  a  thief  than  the 
Raleighs  and  Drakes  considered 
themselves  as  thieves  when  they  di- 
vided the  cargoes  of  Spanish  galleons. 
He  was  a  warrior  seizing  lawful  prize 
of  war,  of  war  never  once  intermitted 
during  the  thirty-five  generations 
which  had  passed  away  since  the  Teu- 
tonic invaders  had  driven  the  children 
of  the  soil  to  the  mountains."  Ill, 
279,  ch.  13. 

4.  Words  pairc'l  within  the  sentence. 
"The  neighbouring  fastnesses,  famed 
throughout  the  world  for  their 
strength,  Antzverp  and  Ostcnd.  Ypres, 
Lisle  and  Tournay,  Moas  and  Valen- 

160 


ciennes,  Camhray  and  Charlcroy, 
Limbnrg  and  Luxembourg,  had 
opened  their  gates  to  the  conquerors: 
hut  never  once  had  the  flag  been 
pnlled  down  from  the  battlements  of 
Xamnr."     IV.  347.  ch.  19. 

The  important  words  of  a  sentence 
placed  in  balance  at  the  beginning 
and  end  of  that  sentence. 
"The  two  together  (William  and 
Sutherland)  would  have  made  up  a 
consummate  statesman.  The  master 
was  capable  of  forming  and  execut- 
ing large  designs,  but  was  negligent 
of  those  parts  in  which  the  servant 
excelled.  The  master  saw  farther 
off  than  most  men :  but  what  was 
near  no  man  saw  so  clearly  as  the 
servant.  The  master,  though  pro- 
foundly versed  in  the  politics  of  the 
great  community  of  nations,  never 
thoroughly  understood  the  politics  of 
his  own  kingdom.  The  servant  was 
perfectly  well  informed  as  to  the 
temper  and  organization  of  the  Eng- 
lish factions,  and  as  to  the  strong 
and  weak  parts  of  the  character  of 
every  Englishman  of  note."  IV, 
499,  ch.  20. 

161 


B.    Balance  in  parts  of  paragraphs. 

See:  1.  James  and  William  at  the 
Boyne,  IV,  31-32.  One  para- 
graph showing  in  contrast  the 
actions  of  both. 

2.  The  slain  and  the  wounded 
after  La  Hogiie,  IV.  322.  The 
single  paragraph  on  this  dual 
subject  is  divisible  into  two 
parts.  In  the  first  part  Ma- 
caulay  speaks  of  the  respect 
paid  to  the  slain.  In  the  sec- 
ond, he  speaks  of  what  was 
done  for  the  wounded.  The 
second  part  is  announced  in  the 
following  sentence :  "While 
such  marks  of  respect  were 
paid  to  the  slain,  the  wounded 
were  not  neglected." 

3.  Halves  of  a  paragraph  in  bal- 
ance. 

See :  The  opinions  of  Lewis 
and  William  on  the  proposed 
peace  of  Ryswick,  V,  230.  The 
paragraph  begins,  "Lewis  had, 

early  in  the  spring " 

In  about  the  centre  of  the  para- 
graph, appears  the  opinion  of 
William. 

162 


C.  Balance  in  successive  paragraphs. 

1.  In  medium  paragraphs. 

See :  The  contrasts  of  countries  and 
armies  in  the  first  few  paragraphs 
of  ch.  16;  and:  The  compounders 
among  the  Roman  Catholics  and 
Jesuits,  IV,  448,  449. 

2.  Long  paragraps  in  balance. 

See :  The  two  paragraphs  on  High- 
land character,  III,  276-281.  These 
are  about  equal  in  size.  First  the 
unattractive  side  of  Highland 
character  is  given ;  then  the  at- 
tractive. 

3.  Series  of  balanced  paragraphs. 

See  TV,  142-149.  These  are  set  out 
with  great  art.  The  first  long 
paragraph  deals  with  Tillotson, 
142-144.  The  second  deals  with 
the  Sancroft  plot.  Here  Macaulay 
throws  in  a  short  intermediary 
paragraph  on  Ken,  as  a  contrast 
to  the  one  just  given  to  Sancroft 
and  the  one  about  to  follow  on 
Sancroft,  147-149. 

D.  Counterbalance  and  contrast. 
Macaulay    sometimes    puts    his    para- 
graphs in  juxtaposition,  or,  to  use  his 
own  word,  in  counterbalance.  By  coun- 

16S 


terbalance  is  meant  a  sequence  of  para- 
graphs which  resemble  each  other  in 
structure,  but  which,  nevertheless,  treat 
of  situations  or  influences  widely  dif- 
ferent. We  can  readily  understand  that 
many  events  in  history  exactly  nullify 
others ;  that  certain  situations  dominate 
others ;  that  certain  influences  defeat 
others.  When  two  paragraphs  treat- 
ing of  two  such  influences,  situations  or 
events,  follow  one  another  with  the 
same  structure,  they  are  said  to  coun- 
terbalance. 

IMacaulay  used  this  artifice  most  com- 
monly in  descriptions  of  battles.  The 
accounts  of  opposing  armies  are  given 
in  counterbalancing  paragraphs.  See: 
The  army  of  James  and  the  army  of 
William,  IV,  20-22,  ch.  16. 
Also:  Lewis's  arrogance  and  mortifica- 
tion, IV,  350-351,  ch.  19. 

Device  for  Quickening  the  Mind  of  the 
Reader  to  Astonishment. 

A.  Plausible  statement  of  assumed  re- 
sults or  conclusions,  ending  in  state- 
ment of  the  real  result  or  conclusion  by 
way  of  surprise. 

1.  "Had  there  been  a  general  election 
while  the  nation  was  smarting  un- 

164 


der  the  many  disgraces  and  mis- 
fortunes, it  is  probable  that  the 
Roundheads  would  have  gained  as- 
cendency in  the  state.  But  the  Par- 
liament was  still  the  Cavalier  Par- 
liament, chosen  in  the  transport  of 
loyalty  which  had  followed  the 
Restoration.  Nevertheless,  it  soon 
became  evident,  etc.  ..."  The 
remainder  of  the  paragraph  tells 
what  really  happened,  I,  181,  ch.  2. 
"Which  plan  was  the  better  con- 
ceived may  be  doubted.  Which  was 
the  better  executed  is  a  question 
which  admits  of  no  doubt.  The 
whole  French  navy  .  .  .  was 
moved  by  one  will,  etc.  ..." 
IY,/474,'ch.  20. 

he  opinion  of  the  great  majority 
&f  the  House  of  Commons  was 
that  the  Indian  trade  could  be  ad- 
vantageously carried  on  only  by 
means  of  a  joint  stock  company 
and  a  monopoly.  It  might  there- 
fore have  been  expected  that  the 
resolution  .  .  .  would  have 
been  immediately  followed  by  a 
law  granting  a  monopoly  to  the 
new  company.    No  such  law,  hoiv- 

165 


tv(*r,  was  passed  .  .  ."  IV,  527, 
ch.  20. 
B.  By  timely  statement  of  picturesque  in- 
cident, story  or  quotation. 
Every  reader  of  the  History  has  noticed 
the  stories  with  which  Alacaulay  enlivens 
his  paragraphs.  Their  pungency,  their 
aptness,  their  illustrative  qualities,  are 
evident.  It  should  be  noticed  that  they 
are  usually  placed  at  the  close  of  the 
paragraph  to  throw  light  on  the  body  of 
paragraphs.  It  is  difficult  to  cite  exam- 
ples, as  the  paragraphs  must  be  read  if 
the  stories  are  to  be  appreciated.  In  his 
paragraph  on  the  closing  of  the  gates  of 
Londonderry,  an  appreciation  of  the  state 
of  the  city  and  the  excitement  of  those 
who  closed  the  gates  is  shown  by  the  fact 
that  one  of  them  broke  into  a  discourse 
by  the  Bishop  with  :  "A  good  sermon,  my 
Lord ;  a  very  good  sermon :  but  we  have 
no  time  to  hear  it  just  now."  This  oc- 
curs at  the  end  of  the  paragraph.  III, 
138-139. 

Another  illustrative  bit  is  the  celebrated 
chant  of  the  Cornishmen  when  Trelaw- 
ney  was  in  peril,  put  by  Macaulay  at  the 
end  of  one  of  his  paragraphs : 
"And  shall  Trelawney  die,  and  shall  Tre- 
lawney  die, 

160 


Then  twenty  thousand  Cornish  boys  will 
know  the  reason  why."  II,  335. 
Examples  need  not  be  multiplied.     The 

reader  may  find  specimens  on  almost  any 

page  of  the  History. 

C.  Allusion  and  suspense. 
( a )    Allusion. 

A  narrator  cannot  be  always  repeat- 
ing the  names  of  his  personages.  He 
has  a  right  to  assume  that  the  reader 
will  rememl^er  what  they  have  done  or 
said.  Hence  a  mere  reference  to  those 
deeds  or  words,  will  be  readily  under- 
stood. This  should  be  said  also:  first, 
allusion,  instead  of  explicit  reference, 
is  a  necessity  of  History ;  second,  the 
difficulty  of  retaining  the  unity  and 
smoothness  of  the  main  narrative  is 
lessened  by  the  use  of  allusion;  third, 
a  great  writer  never  leaves  us  in  the 
dark  about  a  character  to  whom  he  al- 
ludes, because  the  traits  of  this  particu- 
lar character  are  always  made  vivid  be- 
forehand. 

1.     Allusion  within  the  paragraph. 
See:     Sunderland  IV,  495.     "The 
statesman  who  had  the  chief  share 

The  historian  does  not  state  that  Sun- 

167 


derland  is  the  man  referred  to  in  the 
first  long  sentence  of  the  paragraph. 
Yet  in  the  second  sentence  we  are  told : 
"During  that  period  of  general  terror 
and  confusion  which  followed  the  flight 
of  James,  Sunderland  disappeared."  It 
is  certain  from  the  remainder  of  the 
paragraph  that  Sunderland  is  the  man 
referred  to  in  the  first  sentence. 

2.  Allusion  to  a  person  spoken  of 
many  paragraphs  before. 
See  Castelmaine  II,  78;  II,  242. 
In  this,  as  in  many  other  cases,  the 
historian  alludes  in  the  second  cita- 
tion to  the  work  begun  in  the  first. 
The  first  passage  is  on  Castel- 
maine's  mission  to  the  pope,  the 
second  is  on  the  results  of  that 
mission, 
(b)      Suspense. 

The  difference  between  allusion  and 
suspense  is  that  in  allusion  the  histo- 
rian refers  to  something  that  has  al- 
ready happened,  or  been  said ;  in  sus- 
pense he  refers  covertly  to  something 
which  is  going  to  happen.  In  suspense 
he  defers  the  astonishment  which  is  to 
come,  but  insinuates  what  will  be  the 
result  of  the  events  he  is  narrating. 


See:    The  prevision  of  the   fate  of 
the  brave  defenders  of   Limerick, 
stated,  IV,  60.    At  the  close  of  the 
paragraph,  beginning:      "When  it 
was  known  that  the  French  troops 
.     "   we   read,   "If   the   giins 
and   powder   could   be   intercepted 
and  destroyed,  there  might  be  some 
hope.     If  not,  all  was  lost :  and  the 
best  thing  that  a  brave  and  high- 
spirited   Irish  gentleman  could  do 
was  to  forget  the  country  which  he 
had  tried  in  vain  to  defend,  and  to 
seek  in  some  foreign  land  a  home 
and  a  grave."     One  hundred  and 
forty-nine  pages  further  on,  in  the 
six   pages   closing   chapter    17,   we 
have    described    to    us    this    very 
thing, — the  departure  of  the  Irish 
over  sea  "to  seek  in  some  foreign 
land  a  home  and  a  grave." 
See  also:     V,   189-190.     Here  to- 
wards the  end  of  a  quiet,  detailed 
account  of  the  trial  of  Fenwick  by 
the  Commons,  Macaulay  takes  the 
reader  by   surprise,   and   describes 
the  House  of  Commons  as  thrown 
into  consternation,  when  someone 
utters  "the  terrible  words,  'Bill  of 
Attainder.'  " 

169 


D.     Suspension  of  the  leading  thought  of 

a  paragraph  .till  the  end. 

The  reader  cannot  always  be  sure 
when  he  begins  a  paragraph  of  the  His- 
tory, or  when  he  has  read  half  way 
through  it,  that  he  has  gotten  the  gist  of 
the  paragraph,  because  in  many  para- 
graphs Macaulay  has  a  trick  of  reserving 
the  leading  thought  for  the  close.  This 
is  a  means  of  astonishment. 

1.  The  leading  thought  coming  at  the 
very  end  of  the  paragraph,  put  in  a 
single  strong  sentence  whose  thought 
is  in  contrast  to  all  the  other  thought 
of  the  paragraph. 

See:  V,  14.  "The  hopes  of  James 
of  his  companions  ..."  The 
paragraph  is  devoted  to  the  depre- 
ciative  opinion  of  William  held  by 
James  and  his  companions.  It  ends : 
"But  all  the  statesmen  of  Europe 
were  deceived;  and,  strange  to  say, 
his  reign  was  decidedly  more  pros- 
perous and  more  tranquil  after  the 
decease  of  Mary  than  during  her 
life." 

2.  \'ivid  description  in  the  first  part 
of  a  paragraph  leading  the  reader 
on  to  a  definite  conclusion ;  then,  in 

170 


the  latter  part  of  the  paragraph  a  cool 
statement  of  the  very  opposite  of 
that  opinion. 

The  hest  example  of  this  expedient 
for  quickening  the  mind  through  sur- 
prise is  found  in  the  story  of  Lewis's 
action  just  hefore  the  siege  of  Na- 
mur.  A  very  long  paragraph  is  given 
up  to  Lewis's  preparations  to  lead  his 
army  in  [lerson.  Great  is  our  aston- 
ishment to  read  in  the  last  sentence, 
"Lewis  left  the  camp  a  week  after 
he  had  joined  it,  and  never  after- 
wards made  war  in  person  ..." 
IV,  464-465. 
3.  Contrasted  beginning  and  end  of 
paragraph. 

See :     A  common  statement  at  begin- 
ning with  lively  description  at  the  end 
— the  Review  of  the  French  army  be- 
fore Mons.     IV,  345-346. 
E.     By  brilliant  antithesis. 

(a)  Macaulay  had  an  excessive  fond- 
ness for  contrast  of  every  kind, — 
contrasted  thought,  paragraphs,  sen- 
tences, words.  There  is  no  variety 
of  contrast  which  is  not  to  be  found 
in  the  History.  Sometimes  they 
occur    in    a    strong    passage,    adding 

171 


strength  to  strength ;  sometimes  in 
the  dreary  events  of  a  dreary  debate, 
giving  animation  to  what  might  be 
dull  paragraphs.  They  are  always 
sudden,  always  astonishing,  always 
awakening, — never  the  same  in  form, 
(b)     Antithesis. 

1.  Of  thought,  occurring  suddenly 
in  a  paragraph  or  paragraph  series, 
following  dry  paragraphs. 
After  Macaulay  has  given  an  ex- 
position of  James's  position  ( in  ch. 
6  of  the  History)  he  speaks  of  the 
two  factions  at  court — illustrating 
what  he  says  by  character-descrip- 
tions of  Talbot  and  the  two  French 
envoys.  Then  he  gives  a  link  par- 
agraph wherein  he  merely  states 
that  the  Jesuits  at  that  time  were 
plotting  against  the  Pope.  Then 
on  a  sudden  is  given  a  thrilling, 
brilliant  description  of  the  rise  of 
the  power  of  the  Jesuits,  their  vir- 
tues and  vices,  their  power  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  closing  with 
a  statement  of  the  awkward  posi- 
tion of  the  Jesuits  in  England  and 
France.  II,  49-64. 
•  See    also:     The    burning    of    the 

172 


Palatinate,  TI.  119-123.     Here  the 
historian  makes  a  magnificent  close 
to  chapter  eleven  in  one  long,  elo- 
quent   paragraph    on    Louis    XIV. 
This  paragraph  is  artfully  placed 
here  at  the  close  of  the  volume  in 
contrast   to  all   the  dry,  preceding 
parts  of  the  chapter.     Note  in  this 
passage:    (\)   Magnificent  close  to 
chapter;    (2)    contrast   to   dry   de- 
tails of  debate:   (3)   mixed  narra- 
tion and  description:    (4)    its  size 
and    astonishing    effect;     (5)     the 
anti-climax  of  the  conclusion  of  the 
chapter. 
!.     Antithesis  occurring  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  paragraph  as  a  diversion 
of  thought. 

See:  "Wharton  was  not  the  man 
to  let  .  .  .  "  V.  23.  The  first 
part  of  the  paragraph  is  devoted 
to  the  character  of  Wharton.  In 
the  middle  of  the  paragraph  occurs 
this  sentence:  "While  he.  animat- 
ed by  that  fierce  party  spirit,  zvliich 
in  honest  men  would  he  thought  a 
7'ice,  but  -ci'hicJi  in  him  7vas  almost 
a  virtue,  was  eagerly  .  .  .  the 
subject  zvas  suddenly  and  strangely 

173 


forced  forward."  The  remainder 
of  the  paragraph  treats  of  a  bill  in 
Parliament. 

3.  Antithesis  occurring  at  the  end 
of  a  paragraph,  as  a  sudden  influx 
of  thought  entirely  different  from 
the  contents  of  the  paragraph. 
See:  IV.  490.  The  paragraph 
treats  entirely  of  Lewis's  ques- 
tionings on  James's  cause.  At  the 
end  is  found  this  sentence :  "Who 
should  reign  in  England  was  a 
question  to  be  decided  by  England 
alone." 

4.  Antithesis  occurring  within  the 
paragraph  simply  to  diversify  the 
thought.  In  the  paragraph  on  Sun- 
derland, IV,  496,  we  read:  "The 
Whigs  hated  him  as  the  vilest  of 
the  slaves  by  whom  the  late  gov- 
ernment had  been  served ;  and  the 
Jacobites  as  the  vilest  of  the  trait- 
ors by  whom  it  had  been  over- 
thrown." Again:  "His  second 
apostasy  edified  his  wife  as  much 
as  his  first  apostasy  had  edified  his 
master." 

(C)     Both     Clearness     and     Force     by 
Means  of  Repetition. 
It  is  only  a  corollary  to  the  present  writer's 

174 


remarks  on  Macaulay's  clearness,  to  say,  that 
the  historian  exercised  the  greatest  care  to 
prevent  obscurity  or  strained  construction  or 
contorted  phraseology.  He  never  feared  to 
repeat  word  or  phrase  to  guard  against  mis- 
apprehension, and  to  lend  force  to  this 
thought. 

1.     Repetition  of  Some  Word. 

After  speaking  of  St.  Peter's  chapel  in 
the  Tower,  its  association  with  whatever 
is  darkest  in  human  nature  and  in  human 
destinv.  and  of  those  buried  there,  he  con- 
cludes his  paragraph  :  "Such  was  the  dust 
ivith  "which  the  dust  of  Monmouth  min- 
gled." 1.  363. 

After  the  siege  of  Londonderry  we  read : 
"Whigs.  Tories,  nay.  even  the  Jacobites  in 
whom  Jacobitism  had  not  extinguished  ev- 
ery patriotic  sentiment,  gloried  in  the  r/lory 
of  Enniskillen  and  Londonderry."  TTT.  208. 
Of  a  dropped  bill,  we  read:  "The  bill 
was.  therefore,  happily  for  the  honor  of 
English  legislation,  consigned  to  that  dark 
repositorv  in  which  the  abortive  statutes  of 
manv  generations  sleep  a  sleep  rarely  dis- 
turbed bv  the  historian  or  the  antiquary." 
IV.  99. 
2.     Repetition  of  Favorite  Phrases. 

Macaulay  had  a  relish  for  choice  phrases 

175 


and  repeated  those  that  pleased  him. — not  in 
the  same  paragraph,  for  that  would  show 
ineptitude, — but  elsewhere  in  the  History. 
The  above-quoted  remark  on  the  burial  of 
Monmouth  must  have  been  such  a  choice 
morsel  for  the  tongue  of  IMacaulay,  for  we 
read  in  the  account  of  the  Irishman's  love 
for  Ireland,  beginning  "very  different  was 
the  feeling  of  the  children  of  the  soil    .    .    . 

.    .    "     TV,  56.  "There   (in  Ireland) 

were  collected  all  the  objects  of  his  love 
and  of  his  ambition  :  and  there  he  hoped  that 
his  dust  would  one  dav  mingle  with  the  dust 
of  his  fathers."  The  same  statement  of 
Monmouth's  burial,  occurs  three  volumes 
back — in  vol.  I. 

3.     Repetition    of    A^oun,    Adjective.    Pro- 
noun,     Verb,      Adverb,      Conjunction. 
Preposition. 
fa)     Reoetition  of  noun. 

1.  Repetition  of  noun  instead  of  using 
pronoim.     See:    "During  the  summer 

of  1691.  the  controversy " 

IV.  237-238,  ch.  18.  In  this  para- 
graph the  terms  "Old  Company"  and 
"New  Company"  are  repeated  nine 
times. 

2.  Simple  repetition  of  noun. 

To  the  dangers  of  war  and  dangers 

176 


of  treason  had  recently  been  added 
the  dangers  of  a  terrible  financial  and 
commercial  crisis.  But  all  these  dan- 
gers were  over "     See  last 

paragraph  in  volume  IV. 
3.  Lack  of  clearness  through  non-repe- 
tition of  noun.  Macaulay  sometimes 
has  the  pronoun  too  far  from  the 
subject.  See  the  paragraph  begin- 
ning, "For  these  reasons  he  was  dis- 
liked by  the  Commons "I, 

184.  ch.  2.  The  subject  of  the  open- 
ing sentence, — the  pronoun  he, — is 
too  far  away  from  its  antecedent, 
which  is  found  far  back  in  the  pre- 
ceding paragraph, 
(b)    Repetition  of  pronouns. 

1.  Repetition  of  demonstrative  pro- 
nouns. The  historian  habitually  re- 
peats demonstratives.  See  :  "The  bill 
became  a  law.  It  attracted  .... 
.  .  .  ."  IV,  220-221,  ch.  18.  In  this 
paragraph  that  is  constantly  repeated. 

2.  Repetition  of  personal  pronoun  in- 
stead of  using  relative. 

See   the    paragraph    opening:     "Had 
Marlborough    been   of   a   proud   and 

vindictive  nature "    V,  38, 

ch.  20.     Every  sentence  in  the  para- 

177 


graph  is  headed  by  a  he  (referring  to 
Marlborough), 
(c)    Repetition  of  adjective. 

1.  Simple  adjective. 

"The  Gaelic  monuments,  the  Gaelic 
usages,  the  Gaelic  superstitions,  the 
Gaelic  verses,  disdainfully  neglected 
during  many  ages,  began  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  learned  from  the 
moment  at  which  the  peculiarities  of 
the  Gaelic  race  began  to  appear."  Til. 
284.  ch.  13.     "The  two  great  houses 

of  Russell  and  Cavendish 

connected by  comnwn  opin- 
ions, common  sufferings  and  com- 
mon triumphs "  IV,  555,  ch. 

20. 

2.  Possessive  adjective. 

" Few  persons  knew  that  he 

(Marlborough)  had,  while  command- 
ing William's  troops,  while  sitting  in 
IVilliam's  council,  while  waiting  in 
William's  bedchamber,  formed  a 
most  artful  and  dangerous  plot  for 
the  subversion  of  IVilliam's  throne." 
IV,  560,  ch.  20. 

3.  Indefinite  numeral  adjective. 

Some  escaped  to  Ireland ;  some  to 
Corunna;  some  to  Lisbon;  some  to 

178 


Cadiz ;  some  were  captured,  and  more 
destroyed."  IV.  475,  ch.  20. 

(d)  Repetition  of  Verb. 

Macaulay  habitually   repeats   the   same 
auxiliary  in  many  succeeding  clauses  of 
a  single  sentence,  or  in  many  succeed- 
ing sentences. 
See:  the  last  two  pages  of  volume  IV. 

(e)  Repetition  of  Adverb. 

1.  Adverb  of  place.    See :  the  repetition 
of  nowhere  in  the  passage  beginning 

"The  clan  of  Macintosh " 

III,  295.  ch.  13. 

2.  Adverb  of  time. 

There  is  a  constant  repetition  of 
ivhile  and  then  in  many  single  sen- 
tences or  successive  sentences. 
For  zvhile  see:  the  paragraph  open- 
ing. "The  bill  became  a  law.  It  at- 
tracted     "  IV,  221,  ch.  18. 

For  then  see:  "The  natural  effect  of 

this  state  of  things "  IV,  391, 

ch.  19. 

(f)  Rei)etition  of  Conjunction. 

See:  the  paragraph  opening.  "The  clan 

of  Mackintosh "  HI,  ^94,  ch. 

13.     In  this  paragraph  is  one  sentence 
containing  eight  thoughs.  _ 

(g)  Repetition  of  Preposition. 

See :  the  closing  paragraph  of  vol.  IV. 
Note  the  repetition  of  by  and  against. 

179 


CHAPTER  VII 

FIGURES 


1.    General  Remarks  on  Macaulay's  Use  of 
Figures. 

A.  One  of  the  measures  of  a  man's  literary 
ability  is  his  use  of  apt,  refined,  strong 
lucid  figures.  Figures  used  by  the  high- 
est order  of  literary  mind  are  apt.  that 
is,  they  have  peculiar  fitness  for  the  par- 
ticular place  where  they  are  used :  are  re- 
fined, that  is.  they  proceed  from  a  mind 
which  has  no  tinge  of  vulgarity,  but  whose 
taste  is  cultivated  to  the  highest  point  of 
literary  excellence ;  are  strong,  that  is, 
they  add  to  the  thought  and  lodge  it  in 
the  reader's  mind  as  no  other  expression 
could ;  are  lucid,  that  is,  they  sparkle  with 
the  new  light  meant  to  be  thrown  on  a 
particular  passage  by  their  use. 

Men  of  letters  vary  in  their  use  of  fig- 
ures. Some  use  them  sparingly ;  yet  these 
men  may  have  many  of  the  marks  of  high 
literary  faculty.  Others  use  them  freely. 
Among  these  are  the  poets.     The  poetic 

180 


temperament  seems  to  demand  6gures  as 
media  of  expression.    The  poetic  imagina- 
tion   actually    takes     wing    in     figurative 
speech.    Of  writers  who  use  figures,  he  is 
of    the    highest    literary    ability    who    ap- 
proaches to  perfection  in  the  use  of  apt, 
refined,  strong,  lucid  figures. 
B.      Macaulay's   tendency,   on  his   own   ac- 
knowledgment, was  to  profusion  of  fig- 
ures.    His  first  essay, — that  on  Milton, — 
as  he  himself  said,  was  "profuse  with  or- 
nament."   As  in  his  first  published  work, 
so   in   his   last   published   work,   there   is 
profusion  of  ornament,  for  Macaulay  did 
not  check  his  tendency.     The  History  of 
England  is  laden  with  figurative  speech. 
Much  of  the  picture,  the  fire  and  light 
which  animate  every  line,  is  due  to  the 
figures  with  which  he  enriches  his  pages. 
There   are   two    forms   of    writing    in 
which  Macaulay  uses  figures.     They  are 
found    sparkling   in    his    description,    en- 
lightening his  narrative.     They  are,  how- 
ever, never   found  in  his  exposition,  for 
in  it  there  is  no  call  for  imagination. 

Perhaps  Macaulay's  most  conspicuous 
fault  as  a  literary  man  was  a  tendency  to 
exaggerate.  Yet  he  was  quick  to  detect 
this  fault  in  others.    Throughout  the  His- 


181 


tory,  when  speaking  of  addresses  or  writ- 
ings, he  makes  reference  to  the  rhetorical 
effect  obtained  by  speakers  and  writers  by 
the  art  of  exaggeration.  Indeed  the  hne 
adopted  by  the  present  writer  as  a  motto 
for  this  treatise  is  taken  from  an  observa- 
tion made  by  Macaulay  on  Jacobite 
speeches.  He  says  :  "Little  affrays,  such 
as,  at  every  great  pageant,  almost  inevit- 
ably take  place  between  those  who  are 
eager  to  see  the  show  and  those  whose 
business  it  is  to  keep  the  communications 
clear,  zvcre  exaggerated  zvith  all  the  arti- 
fices of  rhetoric"  (III,  110,  Hues  28-33). 
Beyond  a  doubt,  appreciating  exaggera- 
tion as  a  rhetorical  artifice,  Macaulay  con- 
sciously used  it  for  its  startling  effective- 
ness. He  had  his  strong  way  of  saying 
things,  and  much  of  his  strength  comes 
from  pure  exaggeration,  or  else  from  the 
figure  of  speech  which  has  exaggeration 
as  its  prime  element, — liyperbole. 

Hyperbole  and  Exaggeration. 
A.  Plain,  bold  exaggeration,  without  the 
figurative  element,  is  one  of  the  common- 
est kinds  of  Macaulay's  expression.  The 
historian  was  master  of  every  artifice  for 
producing  astonishment.  Of  all  these  he 
was   readiest  and  most  wanton  in   exag- 

182 


geration.     Scarcely  a  page  is  to  be  found 
withoui  this  vermilion-colored  expression. 
1.    Exaggerations  which  are  constantly 
repeated. 

See:   (1)      "Almost  to  madness."  II, 
103. 

"His  love  of  mischief  and  of 
dark  and  crooked  ways 
amounted  almost  to  mad- 
ness." 

(2)  "Almost  to  a  disease."  II, 

248. 

"He  was  in  truth  a  man  in 
whom  the  pride  of  birth  and 
pride  of  rank  amounted  al- 
most to  a  disease." 

(3)  "Never." 

"Never  had  the  English  been 
accustomed  to  the  control  or 
interference  of  any  strang- 
er." II,  384. 
"Never,  within  the  memory  of 
man  had  there  been  an  ap- 
proach to  entire  concord  .  . 
.    .    ."  II,  499. 

"There  had  never  before  been 
such  a  day  in  England:  and 
there  has  never  since  been 
such  a  day." 

183 


"Such    a    patron    of    letters 
England     had     never     seen" 
(Charles  Sackville),  II,  294. 
2.    Less  common  exaggerations. 

There  are  a  multitude  of  exaggera- 
tions used  only  once  or  twice  in  the 
History.  Macaulay  overloads  his 
pages  with  superlatives.  Examples 
are  subjoined : 

"Another  day  of  agitation  and 
alarm  closed  and  was  followed  by  a 
night  the  strangest  and  most  terrible 
England  had  ever  seen,"  II,  304. 
"The  whole  history  of  ancient  and 
modern  times  records  no  other  such 
triumph  of  statesmanship."  (Wil- 
liam's ).     II,  376. 

"Her  ships  were  so  rotten  that  they 
seemed  likely  to  fly  asunder  at  the 
discharge  of  their  own  guns,"  IV, 
562. 
B.  Hyperbole,  or  exaggeration  with  the 
figurative  element. 

"A  party  of  twenty  courtiers  were  seat- 
ed at  cards  round  a  large  table  on  which 
gold  was  heaped  in  mountains,"  I,  89. 

" Spanish  functionaries,  who 

calmlv  sutTered  the  miserable  remains 
of  what  had  been  the  greatest  navy  in 

184 


the  world  to  rot  under  their  very  eyes.'^ 
IV,  563. 

"A  great  mountain  of  books  and  furni- 
ture blazed  on  the  site  of  the  convent 
at  Clerkenwell.'"  II,  499. 
'"The  theatres  were  every  night,  from 
the  pit  to  the  ceiling,  one  blaze  of  or- 
ange ribands."  II.  524. 
"Sheriffs  and  Bailiffs  in  scarlet  gowns, 
musters  of  zealous  Protestants  with  or- 
ange flags  and  ribands,  salutes,  bonfires, 
illuminations,  music,  balls,  dinners,  gut- 
ters miming  with  ale,  and  conduits 
spouting  claret."    Ill,  14. 

3.     Couiparison,  Contrast. 

^facaulay's  memory,  as  everyone  knows, 
was  prodigious.  To  it  must  be  ascribed  his 
readiness  in  comparison  and  contrast.  He  de- 
lighted in  finding  resemblance  and  difference, 
simlarity  and  dissimilarity,  contrasting  high 
and  low  things,  weakness  and  strength.  He 
ranged  the  world  over  to  obtain  material  for 
comparison.  The  longer  the  jump,  the  more 
glaring  the  color,  the  more  the  astonishment, 
and  the  greater  the  delight  to  him.  The  first 
noticeable  feature  in  Macaulay's  use  of  fig- 
ures is  his  fondness  for  exaggeration.  The 
second  prominent  and  striking  characteristic 
is  his  fondness  for  drawing  comparisons  where 

185 


the  two  elements  are  at  antipodes  in  remote- 
ness or  distance. 

(a)      Comparison,  contrast,  given  in  a  few 
words. 

1.  "The  Irish  statute  book,  afterwards 
polluted  by  intolerance  as  barbarous  as 
that  of  the  dark  ages,  then  contained 

scarcely  a  single  enactment 

imposing  any  penalty    on    Papists    as 
such."  Ill,  122. 

2.  "Lewis,  polite  and  dignified,  profuse 
and  voluptuous,  fond  of  display  and 
averse  from  danger,  a  munificent  pat- 
ron of  arts  and  letters,  and  a  cruel  per- 
secutor of  Calvinists,  presented  a  re- 
markable contrast  to  William,  simple  in 
tastes,  ungracious  in  demeanor,  inde- 
fatigable and  intrepid  in  war,  regardless 
of  all  the  ornamental  branches  of 
knowledge  and  firmly  attached  to  the 
theology  of  Geneva."  II,  173. 

3.  "One  other  name  must  be  mentioned, 
a  name  then  only  known  to  a  small  cir- 
cle of  philosophers,  but  now  pronounced 
beyond  the  Ganges  and  the  Mississip- 
pi."   (Sir  Isaac  Newton). 

4.  "Whole  countries,  he  said,  were  devas- 
tated by  a  rabble  resembling  the  vul- 
tures and  ravens  which  follow  the 
march  of  an  army."   Ill,    149. 

186 


5  "The  stones  which  travellers  told  of 
the  savage  Hottentots  near  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope  were  realized  in  Leinster." 
H.  149. 

6.  "The  freehooters  (the  Irish),  at  first 
revelled  in  heef  and  mutton,  as  the  sav- 
age invaders,  who  of  old  poured  down 
from  the  forests  of  the  north  on  Italy, 
revelled  in  Massic  and  Falernian  wine." 
HI,  150. 

7.  "Vov  James's  personal  comforts  pro- 
vision was  made  with  anxiety  resem- 
bling that  of  a  tender  mother  ec|uipping 
her  son  for  a  first  campaign."   II,  157. 

8.  "The  town  ( Cork )  is  adorned  by 
broad  and  well  1)uilt  streets,  by  a  Co- 
rinthian portico  which  would  do  honour 
to  Palladia,  and  by  a  Gothic  college 
worthy  to  stand  in  the  High  Street  of 
Oxford."  HI,   167. 

9.  " a  reign  about  which  the 

politicians   of   Westminster 

knew  no  more  than  about  Abyssinia  or 
Japan."  HI,  274. 

10.  "In  the  time  of  his  grandfather  (the 
modern  Englishman's)  St.  James's 
street  had  as  little  connection  with  the 
Grampians  as  the  Andes."  Ill,  27H. 

11.  "The  modern  Englishman  was  to  the 

187 


Englishman  of  the  sixteenth  century 
what  \  erres  and  Curio  were  to  Denta- 
tus  and  Fabricius."  Ill,  484. 

12.  They  were  as  much  out  of  the  pale 
of  the  civilized  world  as  if  they  had 
been  banished  to  Dahomey  or  Spitzber- 
gen."  IV,  56. 

13.  "Apprehensions  similar  to  those 
which  had  induced  the  Caesars  to  ex- 
tort from  Africa  and  Egypt  the  means 
of  pampering  the  rabble  of  Rome,  in- 
duced Lewis "   IV,  484. 

14.  "He  justly  thought  it  was  monstrous 
that  a  third  part  of  Scotland  should  be 
in  a  state  scarcely  less  savage  than  New 
Guinea."  IV,  285. 

(b)  Cases  where  the  first  element  of  the 
figures  is  compared  to  more  than  one 
thing.  In  these  cases  Macaulay  allows 
the  greatest  of  license.  See :  William  and 
Luxembourg,  IV,  470. 
"Never,  perhaps,  was  the  change  which 
the  progress  of  civilization  has  produced 
in  the  art  of  war  more  strikingly  illus- 
trated than  on  that  day.  Ajax  beating 
down  the  Trojan  leader  with  a  rock  which 
two  ordinary  men  could  scarcely  lift,  Ho- 
ratius  defending  the  bridge  against  an 
army,  Richard  the  Lion-hearted  spurring 

188 


along  the  whole  Saraoeii  line  without  find- 
ing an  enemv  to  stand  his  assault,  Robert 
Bnice  cracking  with  one  blow  the  helmet 
and  head  of  Sir  Henry  Boheen  in  sight 
of  the  whole  army  of  England  and  Scot- 
land, such  are  the  heroes  of  a  dark  age. 
....  At  Landen  two  poor,  sickly  be- 
ings, who  in  a  rude  society  would  have 
be^'en  regarded  as  too  puny  to  bear  any 
part  in  combats,  were  the   souls  of  two 

great  armies It  is  probable  that, 

among  the  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
soldiers    who     were     marshalled     around 
Narwinden    under    all    the    standards    of 
W'estern  Europe,  the  two  feeblest  in  body 
were  the  hunch-backed  dwarf  who  urged 
forward  the  fiery  onset  of  France,  and  the 
asthmatic  skeleton  who  covered  the  slow 
retreat  of  England." 
See  also:    The  Bank  of  St.  George,  \\\ 
543.    "The  bank  of  St.  George  had  nearly 
completed   its  third  century.     Tt  had  be- 
gun to  receive  deposits  and  to  make  loans 
before  Columbus  had  crossed  the  Atlan- 
tic   before   Gama   had    turned    the    cape, 
when  a  Christian  Emperor  was  rei-nmg 
at  Constantinople,  when  a  Mohammedan 
Sultan   was  reigning  at    Granada,    when 
Florence  was  a  Republic,  when  Holland 


189 


obeyed  an  hereditary  Prince.  All  these 
things  had  been  changed.  New  continents 
and  new  oceans  had  been  discovered.  The 
Turk  was  at  Constantinople :  the  Castilian 
was  at  Granada :  Florence  had  its  heredi- 
tary Prince :  Holland  was  a  Republic  ;  but 
the  bank  of  St.  George  was  still  receiving- 
deposits  and  making  loans." 

4.    Antithesis. 

Closely  related  to  comparison  is  antithesis. 
In  antithesis  the  aim  need  not  be  to  com]:)are 
one  object  w^ith  another.  Rather,  in  antithe- 
sis, two  opjiosite  elements  are  put  side  by  side 
in  one  sentence,  not  with  the  aim  of  compar- 
ing them,  but  simply  as  a  device  to  startle  the 
reader  by  the  juxtaposition.  The  History  is 
adorned  ever  and  anon  with  antithesis.  Yet 
INIacaulay's  use  of  it  does  not  smack  of  vulgar 
smartness.  Astonish  though  it  may,  it  is  nev- 
ertheless the  product  of  refined  feeling. 

See:  "FTe  was  capable  of  rising  to  the  part 
of  the  P)lack  Prince  :  and  yet  he  was 
capable  of  sinking  to  the  part  of  Ful- 
ler." (This  is  said  of  Fuller,  a  creature 
like  Gates. )  V,  202. 
"Such  a  defence,  however  weak  it  was 
to  appear  to  some  shallow  speculators, 
will  probably  be  thought  complete  by 
statesmen."  HI,  88. 

190 


"\\"liat  tlie  engineer  is  to  the  iTiat]ici"na- 
tician.  the  active  statesmen  is  to  the 
contem])lative  statesman."  I  IT,  86. 
" Churchin,  unrivahed  in  sa- 
gacity and  address,  endowed  hv  nature 
witli  a  certain  cool  intrepichty  wliich 
never  failed  him  either  in  fighting  or 

lying '•   TI.  448. 

''As  to  the  lady  of  the  manor  and  her 
daughter,  their  literarv  stores  gener- 
ally consisted  of  a  praver  hook  and  re- 
ceipt book."  T.  ?)?/. 

"The  Puritans  hated  bear-baiting,  not 
because  it  gave  pain  to  the  bear,  but 
because  it  gave  pleasure  to  the  spec- 
tator." I.  154.  (Eleventh  paragraph  of 
chapter  II ). 

Remark: 

1.  Antithesis  plays,  like  the  lightning  in 
the  storm  of  a  summer's  evening,  on 
most  of  the  pages  of  the  History. 

2.  It  usually  embraces  a  whole  sentence, 
as  appears  from  the  above  citations.  In 
a  long  sentence  the  antithesis  is  often 
compressed  into  two  or  three  words. 
See.  the  above  quotation  on  Marlbor- 
ough. 

Ehif/rain. 
In   many   places   in    the    History    Macaulay 

191 


speaks  direct  from  intuition,  giving  in  a  con- 
cise, cogent  statement  an  axiom  of  human  na- 
ture, something  that  is  true  of  men  every- 
where. These  utterances  compare  well  with 
the  celebrated  Pensees  of  Pascal  and  the  em- 
piric philosophy  of  Bacon. 

See :  "Calamity  and  peril  often  force  men 
to  combine.  Prosperity  and  security  often 
encourage  them  to  separate."  II.  356.  End 
of  ch.  8. 

"The   omnipotent    sophistry    of    interest 
and  of  passion."  II.  358. 
"Gratitude  is  not  to  be  expected  by  rulers 
who  give  to  fear  what  they  have  refused 
to  justice."  II.  420. 

"The  judicious  are  always  a  minority." 
II,  424. 

"Sympathy  is  rarely  strong  when  there  is 
a  great  inequality  of  condition."  II.  536. 
"To  the  evils  arising  from  mutual  ani- 
mosity of  factions  were  added  the  evils 
arising  from  the  mutual  animosity  of 
sects."  Ill,  72. 

"He  never  knew  either  that  noble  peace 
of  mind  which  is  the  reward  of  rectitude, 
or  that  abject  peace  of  mind  which 
springs  from  impudence  and  insensibil- 
ity." IV.  498. 
"Every   man   is   prone   to   belie^'e   in   the 

193 


gratitude  and  attachment  even  of  the 
tn>)st  worthless  of  persons  on  whom  he 
has  conferred  great  benefits."  IV,  498. 

Remark': 

1.  These  epigrammatic  utterances  do  not 
occur  in  any  particular  place  in  the 
])aragraph,  though  they  are  likely  to  be 
found  either  at  the  beginning  or  end, 
either  as  pungent  statement  from  which 
the  deductions  found  in  the  paragraph 
are  drawn,  or  as  a  happy  conclusion  to 
the  paragraph. 

2.  Thev  are  either  in  a  single  sentence, 
after  the  manner  of  the  novelists,  or 
part  of  a  sentence. 

6.     .-htalogy. 

Macaulav  m  the  History  often  speaks  of 
analogv  and  he  employs  analogy  after  his  own 
manner.  To  him  analogy  does  not  mean  what 
it  does  in  argumentation.  When  he  speaks  of 
an  analogy,  he  means  that  one  situation  in  his 
narrative  is  imaged  in  the  past  of  English  or 
continental  history — often  in  the  remote  past. 
He  does  not  bring  before  the  mind  this  past 
image  of  a  present  situation  for  argumenta- 
tive uses,  but  simply  to  illustrate  the  situa- 
tion of  which  he  is  now  speaking.  Clearly, 
then,  analogy  with  him  is  a  figure  of  speech 
bearing  a  close  resemblance  to  what  is  tech- 


193 


nically  called  Vision,  differing  from  it  in  that 
the  writer  does  not  use  the  Historic  Present 
nor  represent  himself  to  have  been  present  at 
the  events.  He  simply  throws  before  the  read- 
er an  image  of  a  situation  in  the  past,  corre- 
sponding to  the  present  situation  of  which  he 
is  treating. 

See  I\',  65-66.  ]\lacaulay  has  been  speak- 
ing at  length  of  the  first  siege.  His  conclud- 
ing paragraph   is : 

"The  history  of  the  first  siege  of  Limerick 
bears,  in  some  respects,  a  remarkable  analogy 
to  the  history  of  the  siege  of  Londonderry. 
The  southern  city  was.  like  the  northern  city, 
the  last  asylum  of  a  Church  and  of  a  nation. 
Both  places  were  crowded  by  fugitives  from 
all  parts  of  Ireland.  Both  places  appeared  to 
men  who  had  made  a  regular  study  of  the  art 
of  war  incapable  of  resisting  an  enemy.  Both 
were,  in  the  moment  of  extreme  danger,  aban- 
doned by  those  commanders  who  should  have 
defended  them.  Lauzun  and  Tyrconnel  de- 
serted Limerick  as  Cunningham  and  Lundy 
deserted  Londonderry.  In  both  cases,  religi- 
ous and  patriotic  enthusiasm  struggled  unas- 
sisted against  great  odds,  and,  in  both  cases 
religious  and  patriotic  enthusiasm  did  what 
veteran  warriors  had  pronounced  it  absurd  to 
attempt." 


194 


When  one  has  read  his  remarkable  descrip- 
tion of  the  siege  of  Londonderry  in  volume 
III,  the  above  in  volume  IV  is  appreciated. 
See  also:  1.  Mow  the  situation  in  the  Eng- 
lish Church  bears  an  analogy  to 
the  Gallician  Church.    Ill,  396- 
98. 

2.  "The  history  of  Puritanism  in 
England  bears  a  close  analogy 
to  the  History  of  Protestantism 
in  Europe."  Ill,  95-99. 

3.  The  analogy  drawn  between 
the  Highlanders  and  continent- 
al commonwealth  Macaulay  be- 
gins thus:  "For  there  was  a 
commonwealth  of  clans,  the  im- 
age, on  a  reduced  scale,  of  the 
great  commonwealth  of  Euro- 
pean nations." 

4.  Towards  the  close  of  his  de- 
scription of  the  death  of  Mary. 
Macaulay  finds  an  analogy  be- 
tween her  death  and  the  turn  of 
her  father's  fortune,  thus  : 
"Mary  died  in  Christmas  week. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that, 
if  the  secrets  of  Providence 
were  disclosed  to  us.  we  should 
find     that     the     turns    of     the 

185 


daughter's  complaint  in  Decem- 
ber.  1694,  bore  an  exact  anal- 
ogy to  the  turns  of  the  father's 
fortune  in  December,  1688.     It 
was  at  midnight  that  the  father 
ran  away   from    Rochester ;    it 
was  at  midnight  that  the  daugh- 
ter expired.     Such  was  the  pro- 
fundity and  such  the  ingenuity 
of  a  writer  whom  the  Jacobite 
schismatics   justly   regarded   as 
one  of  their  ablest  chiefs." 
Note  1.    This  figure  of  speech  (analogy)  is 
often   carried   through    many    suc- 
cessive paragraphs.     In  some  cases 
the    image    is    introduced    intermit- 
tently in  a  succession  of  paragraphs. 
2.  It  is  another  exhibition  of  the  full- 
ness  of   Macaulay's   knowledge,   of 
his  wish  to  throw  all  possible  light 
on  his  main  narrative,  of  his  fidelity 
to  his  theory. 

7.     Other  Figures. 

Figures  less  commonly  used  by  Macaulay 
are:  synecdoche,  metonymy,  metaphor  and  al- 
legory. These  and  the  other  kinds  already 
mentioned  in  this  chapter  are  by  no  means  an 
exhaustive  list  of  figures  found  in  the  His- 
tory, only  the  ones  most  frequently  employed. 

196 


Subjoined    are    remarkable    specimens    which 
have  caught  the  eye  of  the  present  writer. 

1.  Synecdoche. 

There  is  a  certain  synecdoche  which  is 
foimd  incessantly  in  the  History.  See: 
"unblushing  forehead,"  IV,  569;  "brazen 
forehead,"  V,  25 ;  "unabashed  forehead,"  V, 
27 .  This  is  Macaulay's  usual  brief,  strong 
manner  of  saying  a  man  could  do  evil  with- 
out blushing.  , 

Synecdoche  is  once  and  again  noticeable 
particularly    in    narrative    and    descriptive 

paragraphs.   " Lewis had 

made  a  great  display  of  power,  promptitude 
and  energy  in  a  quarter  where  the  most 
splendid  achievements  could  produce  noth- 
ing more  than  an  illumination  and  a  Te 
Deum."  Ill,  119. 

2.  Metonymy 

This  is  a  flower  of  language  which  bright- 
ens many  pages. 

"He  (William)  was  always  counting  the 
days  which  must  elapse  before  he  should 
again  see  the  land  of  his  birth,  the  clipped 
trees,  the  wings  of  the  innumerable  wind- 
mills     the  long  line  of  painted 

villas  reflected  in  the  sleeping  canals.  He 
took  no  pains  to  hide  the  preference  .  . 
.   .    .   though  he  rendered  great  service  to 


197 


our  country,  he  did  not  reign  in  our 
hearts."  IV,  336. 

3.  Metaphor. 

"He  (Peterborough)  was  still  all  air  and 
fire."  V,  212. 

"When  the  night  came  fireworks  were 
established  on  the  great  tank  which  wash- 
es the  walls  of  the  palace  of  the  Federa- 
tion. That  tank  was  now  as  hard  as  mar- 
ble ;  and  the  Dutch  boasted  that  nothing 
had  ever  been  seen,  even  on  the  terrace  of 
\'ersailles.  more  brilliant  than  the  effect 
produced  by  the  innumerable  cascades  of 
flame  which  were  reflected  in  the  smooth 
mirror  of  ice."   IV,   116-117. 

4.  Next  to  the  capability  of  composing  al- 
legory with  success,  is  the  capacity  to 
"amply"  appreciate  it  when  it  is  written 
with  elegance.  Macaulay  did  not  com- 
pose an  allegory  anywhere  in  the  History, 
but  in  one  place  he  has  applied,  as  an 
illustration,  an  allegory  composed  by  an- 
other in  a  manner  which  shows  his  mar- 
velous  literary   sensibility. 

In  the  celebrated  twentieth  chapter  of 
the  History,  he  borrowed  from  the  pages 
of  Addison,  "one  of  the  most  ingenious 
and  graceful  little  allegories,"  to  illustrate 
the  mind  of  the  rulers  of  the  Bank  of 
England  in  the  days  of  William  : 
198 


"Seventeen  years  after  the  passing  of 
the  Tonnage  Bill,  Addison,  in  one  of  his 
most    ingenious    and   graceful    little   alle- 
gories, described  the  situation  of  the  great 
Company   through    which    the    immense 
wealth  of  London  was  constantly  circu- 
lating.    He  saw   Public    Credit    on    her 
throne  in  Grovers'  Hall,  the  Great  Charter 
over  her  head,  the  Act  of  Parliament  full 
in  her  view.     Her  touch    turned    every 
thing  to  gold.    Behind  her  seat,  bags  filled 
with  coin  were  piled  up  to  the  ceiling.   On 
her  right  and  on  her  left  the  floor  was 
hidden  by   pyramids  of  guineas.     On   a 
sudden   the    door   flies   open.      The    Pre- 
tender rushes  in.  a  sponge  in  one  hand, 
in  the  other  a  Sword  which  he  shakes  at 
the  Act  of    Settlement.      The    beautiful 
Queen  sinks  down  fainting.    The  spell  by 
which   she  has   turned   all  things  around 
her  into  treasure  is  broken.     The  money 
bags  shrink  like  pricked  bladders.     The 
piles  of  gold  pieces  are  turned  into  bun- 
dles of  rags  or  faggots  of  wooden  tal- 
lies.t     The  truth  which  this  parable  was 
meant  to  convey  was  constantly  present  to 
the  minds  of  the  rulers  of  the  Bank.     So 
clo'^elv  was  their  interest  bound  up  with 
the    .'  .    .    .    ."  IV,  531,  ch.  20.     See  also 
Spectator  3. 


199 


it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  had  Macaulay 
chosen,  he  could  have  written  as  inge- 
nious and  graceful  an  allegory  as  Addison 
himself.  Indeed^  in  every  flower  of 
speech  with  which  he  amply  decks  his 
pages,  he  has  proven  his  mastery  in  all 
kinds  of  figurative  expression.  Every- 
where carrying  himself  with  high-minded 
dignity,  everywhere  the  refined  rhetori- 
cian, everywhere  profuse  in  apt  expres- 
sion, everywhere  strong  and  lucid,  he  has 
everywhere  strewn  his  History  with  apt, 
refined,  strong,  lucid  figures. 


200 


PART  II 
SENTENCE-STRUCTURE 


201 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CLASSES  AND  FORMS  OF  MACAULAY'S 
SENTENCES 


(a)      Preliminary    discussion    of    certain 

MODERN    THEORIES   OF   THE   SENTENCE. 

1.     L.  A.  Slicrman's  Theory.  \ 

Xovelties  are  to  be  expected  in  these  days 
of  intensest  interest  in  research.  Minute 
and  profound  study  in  the  different  branches 
of  literary  cuhure  has  affected  rhetoricians, 
wlio  have  turned  their  attention  to  the  de- 
velopment of  English  prose.  Among  the 
scholars  who  have  been  foremost  in  this  in- 
vestigation has  been  Professor  Lucius  A. 
Sherman  of  the  University  of  Nebraska. 
His  theory  is  treated  in  chapters  19-27  of  his 
"Analytics  of  Literature."  In  substance  it 
is  this:  that  the  development  of  English 
prose  has  been  marked  :  first,  by  decrease  in 
predication'  ;  second,  by  suppression  of 
clauses';  third,  by  omission  of  conjunctions 
and  infrecjuent  use  of  relatives^.     Professor 

1.  Analytics    of    Literature    by    Sherman,    Ginn    & 
Co.   1893.  Ch.  XX. 

2.  Ibid.   P.   280. 

3.  Ibid.  P.  309. 

203 


Sherman's  conclusion,  enforced  with  a  good 
deal  of  emphasis,  is,  that  "from  the  Lyrical 
Ballads  to  the  present  moment  the  language 
of  books  and  the  language  of  men  have  been 
growing  rapidly  alike."  This  is  truly  aston- 
ishing. There  can  be  no  misunderstanding 
of  his  meaning,  for  he  ends  the  statement  of 
his  theory  with  all  the  confidence  of  a  proph- 
et :  "The  literature  of  this  busy  age  must 
be  as  condensed  and  energized  as  its  thought. 
So  far  as  this  may  be  we  are  trying  to  make 
words  do  the  work  of  sentences. — as  we 
have  seen  in  Browning  and  Tennyson's 
mode  in  poetry.  We  reduce  'if  one  were  to 
speak  with  strictness'  to  'strictly  speaking' ; 
and  we  shall  cut  down  'strictly  speaking'  to 
'strictly,'  if  we  can  get  our  generation  to  ac- 
cept the  symbol ;  so  with  'calmly',  'mani- 
festly,' and  the  rest.  Literary  English,  in 
short,  will  follow  the  forms  of  the  standard 
spoken  English  from  which  it  came.  No 
man  should  talk  worse  than  he  writes,  no 
man  writes  better  than  he  should  talk.  The 
element  of  unerring,  instant  selection, — 
when  it  is  lacking,  is  the  only  difference. "* 
Professor  Sherman  is  a  voluble  writer 
with  a  theory.  He  is  a  radical  and  has  a 
new  gospel   for  rhetoricians.     Conservative 


•Ibid.   Pp.   311-312 


men  are  always  slow  in  accepting  novelties 
and  strange  doctrines.     This  is  particularly 
true    of    conservative    rhetoricians.     More- 
over, it  is  easy  to  point  out  Sherman's  er- 
rors.    Though   in  many  parts  of  his  book 
he  seems  to  appreciate  the  element  of  per- 
sonality as  it  appears  in  the  style  of  writers, 
though  he  once  and  again  seems  to  realize 
that  there  can  be  many  styles,  whether  in 
prose  or  poetry,  all  faultless,  he  falls  com- 
pletely under  the  sway  of  a  mere  notion,  a 
new  and  strange  doctrine,  when  he  speaks 
of   the   development  of   English   prose.     In 
his  words,  last  quoted,  any  one  with  half 
an  eye  can  see  that  he  confounds  the  license 
which  has  always  been  acceded  to  poets  with 
an    imagined    right    which    has    never   been 
granted  to  writers  of  prose.     Everyone  re- 
members Voltaire's  witty  remarks  that  the 
English  gain  four  hours  a  day  by  clipping 
their   words.     But   no   man,   except   a   man 
with   new    rhetorical   notions,   believes   that 
there  is  to  be  a  time  when  we  shall  cast  off 
the  formality  essential  to  an  elegant  prose 
style,  or  the  wording  and  phrasing  without 
which    prose    would    become    sputter.     The 
signs  of  thought  displayed  by  an  orator — 
gesture,  posture,  facial  expression,  varieties 
of   articulation    and    intonation    are   lost    in 


205 


written  speech.  The  procedure  in  written 
speech  must  l)e  more  or  less  formal.  The 
punctuation,  wording,  phrasing  must  be  to 
the  eye  of  the  reader  what  gesture  and  in- 
tonation are  to  the  eye  and  ear  of  the  hearer. 
Talking  and  writing  one  and  the  same !  Not 
at  all !  They  can  never  be.  because  they 
are  different  means  of  delivering  thought, 
and  the  means  must  be  suited  to  the  differ- 
ing conditions.* 

2.     A.  S.  Hill's  J'iczv. 

As  far  as  the  West  is  from  the  East,  so 
far  is  the  theory  of  Sherman  from  the  the- 
ory of  Hill.  The  Nebraskan's  theory  rep- 
resents the  young  man  with  an  "original" 
notion  of  which  this  old  world  has  never 
heard  before.  The  theory  of  the  Harvard 
rhetorician  is  that  of  the  wise  conservative 
who  cares  not  for  striking  "original"  no- 
tions, but  who,  in  the  words  of  Harvard's 
own  Emerson :  re-read  an  old  book  when 
many  people  go  palavering  about  a  new  one. 
It  is  a  comfort  after  reading  Sherman's  dog- 
matic assertions  on  the  short  sentence  to 
turn  to  conservative  opinions  of  present- 
day  sentence-structure.  "In  our  day,"  says 
Professor   Hill,    "although    we   occasionally 


*In  confirmation   of  tliis  opinion   see:   J.   M.   Hart's 
Handbook  of  Rlietoric,  Pp.   141-142. 

206 


see  a  sentence  of  only  two  or  three  words 
and   occasionally  one  of  two  hundred,  ex- 
tremely short  and  extremely  long  sentences 
are  rare.     Often  the  distinction  between  the 
two  is  so  slight  that  a  change  in  punctua- 
tion, phraseology  or  arrangement  suffices  to 
put  material  that  is  scattered  through  sev- 
eral sentences  into  one,  or  material  that  is 
stretched  through  one  sentence  into  several. 
When   the   difference   is   a  mere  matter  of 
punctuation,    and    still    more    when    it    is    a 
matter    of    substance,    the    choice    between 
short  and  long  sentences  depends  partly  on 
the  nature  of  the  subject  matter  and  partly 
on  the  character  of  the  persons  addressed. 
To  recommend  the  use  of  short  sentences 
almost   exclusively,   as   some  writers  do.  is 
to  look  on  the  subject  from  but  one  point 
of  view.*  Elsewhere  H\\\  says :  That  kind  of 
sentence  has  its  place.     Each  kind  the  mas- 
ter   of    expression    uses    according    to    his 
needs.* 
3.     The  Present  IVriter's  Jleic. 

In  the  opinion  of  the  pre>ent  writer.  Hill's 
statements,  which  are  based  on  the  doctrine 
of  all  the  old  rhetoricians,  seem  to  be  sen- 

.See:    the     1S96     Edit,    of    Adam?    Sherman    Hill'-s 
"Principles    of    Rhet'«ric,"    Pp.    216-217. 

L.  A.  Sherman's  book  was  published  in   1893. 
•Ibid  228. 

207 


sible  and  sound.  Sentence-structure  in 
written  speech  is  due :  first,  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  thought ;  second,  to  habit.  The 
study  of  a  man's  rhetoric  is  at  bottom  the 
study  of  a  man's  mind,  and,  conversely,  a 
man's  thought  will  change  his  manner  of 
expression.  Yet  the  best  of  us,  even  those 
most  fertile  in  rhetorical  devices,  are  crea- 
tures of  habit.  The  growth  of  mind,  the 
increase  of  culture,  may  vary  expression, 
but  on  the  whole  we  shall  find  that  we  are 
habituated  to  certain  modes  of  expression. 
The  sum  of  these  modes  constitutes  the  style 
of  the  writer.  The  style,  as  the  French  say, 
is  the  man.  Though  it  is  true  that  all  ex- 
pression must  be  more  or  less  formal,  still, 
generally  speaking,  styles  fall  into  two 
classes :  first,  what  the  French  call  "grand," 
that  is  the  studied,  the  carefully  formal 
style;  second,  the  informal,  conversational 
and  familiar  style.  Accordingly  when  we 
consider  the  sentence-structure  of  any  para- 
graph or  series  of  paragraphs,  our  query 
should  be :  first,  what  are  the  surroundings 
of  a  sentence ;  second,  is  the  style  formal,  or 
informal,  conversational  and  familiar?  As 
a  thousand  tongues  have  said,  Macaulay's 
style  is  carefully,  consistently,  consciously 
formal.     The   difference  between   the   His- 

308 


tory  and  the  Essays  is  that  in  it  he  is  more 
formal  than  ever.  The  lahor  of  fifteen 
years,  the  sacrifice  of  all  other  ambitions,  an 
elaborate  plan,  the  most  scrupulous  care  in 
composition,  the  search-light  of  refined  crit- 
icism in  revision,  made  Macaulay's  style  in 
his  iiuujiiiiiii  of'iis  as  "grand."  yet  moving 
with  elegant  ease,  as  he  could  wish.  Ac- 
cordinglv  we  may  expect  his  sentence- 
structure,  whether  it  be  in  narration,  de- 
scription or  exposition,  to  be  studiously  cor- 
rect, solid,  formal:  though  it  may  vary  in 
form,  according  to  the  thought,  it  must, 
nevertheless,  preserve  the  same  rigid  for- 
mality, 
(b)  The  classes  of  sentences  found  in 
THE  History. 

1.     Sentences  Embodying  Either  a  Condi- 
tion.   Restriction,    Hesitation,    or    a 
til  on  (/lit    Running    Parallel   zvith    the 
Main  Thought. 
A.     Places  where  such   sentences  are  to 
be  found. 

They  are  to  be  found,  first  of  all,  in 
exposition.  It  is  impossible,  because  of 
the  very  nature  of  exposition,  to  do 
without  conditions  or  restrictions  of 
opinion  when  giving  an  explanation  of 
a  principle  or  situation.     Laconic  lan- 

209 


guage  at  any  rate,  though  it  may  do 
for  the  expression  of  dogma,  will  not  do 
.for  the  expression  of  a  condition  or 
restriction  within  a  single  sentence. 
Also  it  is  the  nature  of  mind  to  express 
in  relative  clauses  thought  having  di- 
rect relationship  with  the  main  thought 
of  the  sentence.  If  there  is  a  desire  to 
be  strictly  formal  in  sentence-structure, 
and  if  two  thoughts  are  parallel,  it  is 
natural  to  put  them  in  a  single  sen- 
tence. We  find  Macaulay  then,  in  ex- 
position, embodying  in  a  single  sentence 
within  a  main  thought  with  its  accom- 
panying restrictions,  conditions,  hesi- 
tations, or  parallel  thoughts.  Second, 
this  class  of  sentences  is  to  be  found  in 
place-description  and  generalized  char- 
acter-description. Third,  in  narrative 
where  the  order  is  that  of  cause  and 
eflFect. 

B.  A  study  of  this  class  of  sentences  in 
]\Iacaulay's  exposition.  Examination  of 
representative  groups. 

1.     Exposition  in  one  paragraph. 
See:     The    justification    of    Wil- 
liam's action  in  the  paragraph  be- 
ginning:    "Those    lords   and   gen- 
tlemen at  whose  request.    ..." 

210 


Ill,  141,  ch.  12.  Seventeen  sen- 
tences, nine  belonging  to  the  above 
class.  In  the  first  half  of  the  par- 
agraph we  read  the  accusations 
tnade  against  WilHam,  then  demon- 
stration of  their  falsity. 

2.  Exposition  in  two  paragraphs. 
See:  Explanation  of  Declaration 
of  Indulgence  in  paragraph  begin- 
ning, "It  must  in  candour  be  ad- 
mitted ..."  I,  206-207,  mid- 
dle of  ch.  2.  Twenty-one  sen- 
tences, thirteen  of  above  class. 

3.  Exposition  in  three  paragraphs. 
See  IV,  120-121,  beg.  ch.  17.  "This 
mode  of  transacting  business  ..." 
Twenty-three  sentences,  fifteen  of 
above  class. 

4.  Long  series  of  paragraphs. 

See:  IV,  410-416,  ch.  19.  Parlia- 
mentary reform  to  first  discussion 
concerning  liberty  of  the  press. 
Here  Macaulay  passes  from  expo- 
sition into  narration,  then  back 
again  to  exposition.  It  is  notice- 
able that,  in  the  expository  pas- 
sages, with  scarcely  an  exception, 
the  sentences  are  of  the  above  class. 
When  he  passes  into  narrative  the 


211 


sentences  become  shorter  and  more 

direct. 
C.     The    two    forms    of    description    in 
which    this   class   of   sentence   appears. 
Explanation.     Representative    passages 
examined. 

1.  In  place-description  see:  "This 
country,  then  uncultivated  and  un- 
inhabited ..."  III.  136-137, 
ch.  12.  Here  all  the  sentences  are 
of  the  above  class. 

2.  In  character-description  see :  III, 
179-182.  General  character-descrip- 
tion of  the  people  of  Londonderry. 
Thirty-six  sentences,  only  three 
short. 

Explanation.  This  class  of  sen- 
tences occurs  in  place-description 
and  generalized  character-descrip- 
tion, because,  though  undoubtedly 
throughout  these  passages  the  mo- 
tive is  description,  the  descriptions 
partake  of  the  nature  of  exposi- 
tion ;  describing  certain  places  or 
characters,  they  also  explain  cer- 
tain situations  coming  before  or 
after  the  description.  At  any  rate 
it  is  observable  that  in  such  de- 
scription the  tendency  of  the  sen- 

213 


tence  is  to  become  long — to  become 
longer  than   in   any  other  kind  of 
description. 
D.     The    particular    narrative     form     in 
which  it  is  found  and  why.     One  repre- 
sentative passage   studied. 
This  class  of  sentence  occurs  in  narra- 
tive where  the  order  is  that  of  cause  and 
etTect.     The   explanation    is   that    in    this 
form  of  narrative,  though  of  course  the 
narrative  motive  is  predominant,  there  is 
a  subsidiary  purpose  to  explain  relations. 
Hence  in  this  kind  of  narrative  the  first 
class  of  sentences  is  likely  to  be  found. 
See:     II,  376-390.     Conduct  of  James 
after  the  trial  of  the  Bishops,  discontent 
of   the   clergy,    the   gentry,    the   army; 
public  indignation.    The  cause  is  James. 
The  effect  is  on  clergy,  gentry,   army 
and  common  people.     In  this  long  pas- 
sage the  sentences  are  equally  divided 
bet:ween  the  long  and  short  class. 
Srntoices  zvithoiit  Condition  or  Restric- 
tion. 
A.     Macaulay's  fondness  for  this  class  of 
sentences. 

There  are  several  reasons  why  Macau- 
lay  chose  to  use  short,   straight- forward 
sentences :    first,   he   aimed   to   make   his 
aia 


work  readable,  capable  of  being  under- 
stood by  the  humblest  reader ;  second,  in 
description  and  narration — wliich  em- 
braced most  of  his  work — short  sentences, 
unhampered  by  condition  or  hesitation, 
gave  movement  to  his  work ;  third,  these 
sentences  suited  his  nature. 
B.     His  use  of  such  sentences  singly,  or 

in  small  groups.     The  reasons  for  this. 

Within  expository  paragraphs  Macau- 
lay  is  prone  to  break  away  from  the  first 
class  of  sentences  embodying  restriction 
of  opinion,  into  the  composition  of  one 
or  two  or  a  succession  of  sentences  of  the 
second  class.  The  reason  is  that  his  pre- 
dominant desire  as  a  writer  was  to  be 
clear  even  to  the  humblest  reader.  Thus 
his  purpose  in  using  short  sentences 
within  expository  paragraphs  was  to  make 
his  chief  ideas  stand  out.  He  put  those 
ideas  which  were  prominent  in  his  mind 
in  sharp,  short,  simple  sentences.  A  par- 
agraph explaining  William's  action  closes 
thus:  "He  had  found  the  treasury  empty 
and  the  pay  of  the  navy  in  arrears.  He 
had  no  power  to  hypothecate  any  part  of 
the  public  revenue.  Those  who  lent  him 
money  lent  it  on  no  security  but  his  bare 
word.     It  was  only  by  the  patriotic  lib- 

214 


erality  of  the  merchants  of  London  that 
he  was  enabled  to  defray  the  ordinary 
charges  of  government  till  the  meeting  of 
the  convention.  It  is  surely  unjust  to 
blame  him  for  not  instantly  fitting  out,  in 
such  circumstances,  an  armament  suffi- 
cient to  conquer  a  kingdom."  Ill,  142, 
ch.  12.  Besides,  such  sentences  are  very 
often  placed  prominently  at  the  head  of 
a  paragraph ;  though,  when  in  such  a 
place,  they  are  not  always  subject-sen- 
tences. His  desire  in  so  placing  them 
was  to  strike  into  the  mind  of  the  reader 
the  thought  embodied  in  these  sentences. 
For  examples  of  short  sentences  at  the 
head  of  paragraphs  see  almost  any  page 
of  the  History. 

C.     His  use  of  them  in  rapid  succession 
or  in  large  groups. 

1.     In  description  of  extensive  opera- 
tions and  the  attendant  circumstances. 
Study  of  representative  passages. 
Almost  any  long,  rapid  description  in  the 
History  may  be  instanced  to  prove  that 
in  such  passages  short,  simple  sentences 
are  used  in  great  numbers.     The  most 
notable   instance   is   the   description   of 
the    siege    of    Londonderry,    the    com- 
mencement of  the  siege,  the  attack  re- 

215 


pulsed,  the  blockade.  Ill,  185,  etc., 
ch.  12. 
Note :  "The  operations  now  commenced 
in  earnest.  The  besiegers  began  by 
battering  the  town.  It  was  soon  on  fire 
in  several  places.  Roofs  and  upper 
stories  of  houses  fell  in,  and  crushed 
the  inmates.  During  a  short  time  the 
garrison,  many  of  whom  had  never  be- 
fore seen  the  effect  of  a  cannonade, 
seemed  to  be  discomposed  by  the  crash 
of  chimneys,  and  by  the  heaps  of  ruin 
mingled  with  disfigured  corpses.  But 
lamiliarity  with  danger  and  horror  pro- 
duced in  a  few  hours  the  natural  effect. 
The  spirit  of  the  people  rose  so  high 
that  their  chiefs  thought  it  safe  to  act 
on  the  offensive.  On  the  twenty-first 
of  April  a  sally  was  made  under  the 
command  of  Murray.  The  Irish  stood 
their  ground  resolutely ;  and  a  furious 
and  bloody  contest  took  place.  Mau- 
mont,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  cavalry, 
flew  to  the  place  where  the  fight  was 
raging.  He  was  struck  in  the  head  by 
a  musket  ball,  and  fell  a  corpse.  The 
besiegers  lost  several  other  officers,  and 
about  two  hundred  men,  before  the 
colonists  could  be  driven   in.     Murray 

aia 


esca|)ed  with  difficnlty.     His  horse  was 

killed  under  him  :  and  he  was  beset  by 

enemies:  he  was  able  to  defend  himself 

till   some  of   his    friends   made   a    rush 

from   the  gate  to  his   rescue,  with  old 

Walker  at  their  head." 

See  also:  the  account  of  the  distress  in 

the  town   just  l)efore  its   relief,  "By 

this    time    July    was    far    advanced 

"     The  sentences  are  seldom 

more  than  a  line  long.     They  break 

on  one  another's  heels  in  a  manner 

which  suggests  the  utmost  confusion. 

III,  215.  ch.  12. 

See   also:     The    Rattle   of   the    Boyne, 

IV,  25-31. 

2.  In  narration  following  the  order  of 
time.  Study  of  one  representative 
passage. 

Into  no  narrative  passage  follow- 
ing the  order  of  time  did  Macaulay 
enter  with  more  spirit  than  into  that 
in  which  he  traces  the  events  from 
William's  start  from  Helvoetsluys 
for  England  to  the  abdication  of 
lames  II,  427-494  (second  half  of 
ch.  9),  and  in  no  other  narrative 
passage  does  he  better  exhibit  his 
fondness  for  snappy  sentences  con- 
taining no  restrictive  statements. 
ai7 


The  passage  begins, 

"The  deputies  of  the  principal  towns 
accompanied  him  to  his  yacht.  Even 
the  representatives  of  Amsterdam,  so 
long  the  chief  seat  of  opposition  to 
his  administration,  joined  in  paying 
him  this  compliment.  Public  prayers 
were  offered  for  him  on  that  day  in 
all  the  churches  of  the  Hague. 

'Tn  the  evening  he  arrived  at  Hel- 
voetsluys  and  went  on  board  of  a 
frigate  called  the  Brill.  His  flag 
was  immediately  hoisted.  It  dis- 
played the  arms  of  Nassau  quartered 
with  those  of  England.  The  motto, 
embroidered  in  letters  three  feet  long, 
was  happily  chosen.  The  House  of 
Orange  had  long  used  the  elliptical 
device,  T  will  maintain."  The  ellip- 
sis was  now  filled  up  with  words  of 
high  import.  'The  liberties  of  Eng- 
land and  the  Protestant  religion.' 

"The  Prince  had  not  been  many  hours 
on  board  when  the  wind  became  fair. 
On  the  nineteenth  the  armament  put 
out  to  sea,  and  traversed,  before  a 
strong  breeze,  about  half  the  distance 
between  the  Dutch  andEng-lish  coasts. 


218 


Then   the   wind   changed,  blew   hard 
and  continues  to  the  close  of  ch.  9. 

(c)     TlIR  FORMS  OF  SFXTFNCES  IN  MaCAULAY. 

1.     Prcliiiiiiiary  Remarks.    Macaulays  Style 
Studied    and    Dignified,    Hence    tJie 
Choice  of  Sentences  to  that  End. 
Though  it  is  true  that  most  styles  are 
more  or  less   formal,  it   is  also  true  that 
there  are  styles  which  are  rigorously  for- 
mal.    Such    an    one   is    Macaulay's.     Re- 
cause  his  manner  was  strictly   formal,  it 
was  necessary  to  shape  sentences  to  that 
end. 

2.     Hie  fovnis  of  Sentences  Used  by  Macau- 
lax:  the  Short  Sentence,  the  Balanced 
Sentence,  the  Periodic. 
For  a  strictly  formal  style  the  only  sen- 
tence-forms at  his  disposal  were  the  short 
sentence,   the   balanced,    the   periodic.     The 
short  sentence  was  useful  for  plain,  straight- 
forward  utterance.     The  balance  was   use- 
ful   for   matching    or   contrasting    word    or 
phrase  or  thought.     The  periodic   sentence 
gave  him   the  opportunity  to  make  a  deep 
impression  at  the  end  of  a  sentence,  or  to 
rise  into  climax  at  the  end  of  a  paragraph. 
3.     The  Differences  in   His   Use  of  These 

ai9 


Sentences  in   Narrative,   Descriptive 
and  Expository  Writing. 
In  narrative  following  the  order  of  time 
the  sentences  are  short.     They  are  usually 
composed  of  one  subject  and  one  predicate. 
They  are  seldom  or  never  modified.     They 
are  short,  pointed,  assertive.     In  narrative 
following  the  order  of  cause  and  efifect,  the 
sentence-forms  are  mixed.     In  ordinary  de- 
scription the  common  sentence-form  is  the 
short   and    simple,   though    there   are   occa- 
sional periodic  sentences  ;  balanced  sentences 
are  rare.     In  exposition  the  majority  of  the 
sentences  are  rather  long,  periodic,  together 
with  many  in  formal  balance. 
4.     The  Use  of  Short,  Balanced  and  Peri- 
odic Sentences  in  Narration. 
(a)      In  narration  where  the  order  is  that 
of  cause  and  effect. 
As  the  mood  in  this  kind  of  narration  is 
partly  narrative  and  partly  expository,  it 
has  its  effect  on  the  sentence-structure.   In 
II,  376-380,  the  conduct  of  James  after  the 
trial  of  the  Seven  Bishops,  for  example, 
half  of  the  sentences  are  short,  half  are 
balanced.    Here  Macaulay  shows  two  tend- 
encies.    On  the  one  hand,  in  pure  narra- 
tion, to  short  sentences ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  when  the  analytical   faculty  is  up- 
aao 


permost.  to  the  long  sentences  found  in 

his  exposition. 

f  b  )      In  narration  where  the  order  is  that 

of  time. 

Here,    because    of    the    rapidity    of 
movement  gained  by  them,  because  of 
the  terseness  they  give,  because  of  the 
ease  with  which  he  can  convey  fact  by 
them.   ^lacaulay   uses   short    sentences. 
See :  the  coming  of  Wihiam  to  England. 
II.  427-493,  ch.  9. 
I.     The  Use  of  Short,  Balanced  and  Peri- 
odic Sentences  in  Descrif^tion. 
(a)      In  place-description. 

In  place-description  ^Nlacaulay  uses  few 
sentences.  They  are  often  periodic.  A 
representative  passage  is  the  siege  of  Lon- 
donderry. III.  136.  Here  all  the  sen- 
tences but  one  are  periodic.  There  is  a 
desire  to  be  brief,  pointed,  but  at  the  same 

time  stately. 

(b)  In  generalized  character  description. 
In  this  particular  kind  of  description, 
because  the  motive  is  generalization,  the 
sentence-structure  is  apt  to  be  like  that 
in  exposition.  That  is  to  say.  the  sen- 
tences are  long,  usually  periodic,  mixed 
with  balanced.  See  the  generalized  char- 
acter-description   of   the   Ulsterman,    III, 

231 


179-182.     tiere  the  sentences  are  mostly 

periodic.     Some  are  balanced. 

( c  )    In  descriptions  of  operations. 

In  this  kind  of  description  the  sen- 
tence-form is  the  short.  See :  the  siege 
and  blockade  of  Londonderry,  III,  184, 
etc.  Here  rapidity  of  movement  is  de- 
sired (as  is  always  the  case  in  Macaulay's 
descriptions  of  operations),  together  with 
ease  for  the  mind  of  the  reader  in  readily 
grasping  the  facts, 
(d)     In  description  of  circumstances. 

F'or  the  same  reason  as  in  description  of 
o]:ierations,  Macaulay,  in  descriptions  of 
circumstances,  employs  the  short  sen- 
tence. An  ex'cellent  example  is  the  state 
of  Londonderry  at  the  height  of  the  siege. 
Ill,  214-216. 
Tlic  Use  of  Periodic  and  Bcdanccd  Sen- 
tences ill  Exposition. 
A.     In  a  single  paragraph. 

See:  Vindication  of  the  king's  anger  at 
the  committee  on  religion,  I,  466,  to- 
wards close  of  ch.  4.  The  sentences 
are  mostly  balanced  and  periodic. 
The  sentences  become  longer  towards 
the  paragraph-end. 
Also :  T.  565.  Defence  of  the  com- 
mon people,  periodic  and  balanced 
sentences. 

222 


Aii.l:  III.  141.  The  arguments 
against  William.  Thirteen  sentences, 
the  nine  long  ones  periodic  and  bal- 
anced. Thus  it  is  with  exposition  in 
one  paragraph.  The  sentences  are 
long— either  periodic  or  balanced, 
^lacaulay  is  not,  however,  necessarily 
confined,  in  single  expository  para- 
graphs, to  such  sentences.  A  very  re- 
markable exception  is  the  argument 
of  the  whigs  in  the  Fenwick  case. 
See-    "Thus  far  the  Whigs  seem  to 

have "    \'-  195,  ch.  21.     In 

this  medium  expository  paragraph 
there  are  thirteen  sentences,  all,  ex- 
cept two,  short.  Great  force  and 
point  is  obtained  by  the  crowd  of 
short  sentences. 
B.     In  groups  of  two  paragraphs. 

See  :  "James's  cruelty  more  odious  than 
his  mercy."  T.  588-590.  Two  para- 
graphs of  exposition  leading  to  nar- 
ration. The  majority  of_  the  sen- 
tences balanced  and  periodic.  Tn  the 
periodic  sentence  at  the  close  of  para- 
graph one.  Alacaulay  asks  to  whom 
and  for  what  did  James  grant  his 
pardon.  The  answers  come  in  bal- 
anced sentences  in  the  centre  and  at 
the  end  of  the  next  paragraph. 

223 


See  also :  The  argument  for  the  na- 
tional debt.  I\".  394-395.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  sentences  periodic ;  three 
or  four  balanced. 

C.  In  groups  of  three  paragraphs. 

See :  Macaulay's  excuse  for  William's 
acting  as  his  own  Foreign  Secretary, 
IV.  120-122,  ch.  17.  There  is  a  pre- 
ponderance of  balanced  and  periodic 
sentences.  The  sentences  are  adjust- 
ed in  the  paragraph  to  make  a  forci- 
ble argument,  climaxes  in  the  second 
and  third  paragraphs. 

D.  In  large  groups. 

Several  remarkable  passages  may  be 
studied  in  this  connection.  First,  see: 
Parliamentary  Reform  and  the  Place 
Bill.  IV,  401-416.  Note:  the  passage 
consists  of  exposition,  breaking  at 
one  time  into  narration,  and  then  fall- 
ing back  into  exposition ;  there  is  a 
preponderance  of  balanced  and  peri- 
odic sentences  in  the  expository 
parts,  and  of  short  in  the  narrative 
part;  the  last  three  pages,  in  which 
Macaulay  is  stronglv  asserting  his 
own  opinion,  consists  of  periodic  sen- 
tences increasing  in  size  towards  the 
climax  at  the  end  of  the  passage.  Sec- 

224 


ond :    see,    the   Hate   of   Ireland,    IT, 
122-131,  ch.  6.    Note:  the  scarcity  of 
short   sentences ;  in    several    of    the 
paragraphs    the    sentences    are    the 
same  in   form  and  equal  in  number, 
making    the    paragraphs    as     nearly 
alike  as  possible. 
Remark:     The  explanation  for  the  ab- 
sence  of   short   sentences   in   exposi- 
tion is  perfectly  obvious.     Short  sen- 
tences  will    do    for   direct   assertion. 
If,  in  passages  requiring  the  analyt- 
ical   faculty,   the   author   cannot   use 
incompact,   loose   sentences   he   must 
use  the  balanced  and  periodic  struc- 
ture.    ]\Iacaulay  habitually  eschewed 
loose  forms  :  hence  we  find  him  using, 
almost    entirely,    in    exposition    bal- 
anced and  periodic  forms. 
7.     Variety  in  the  Use  of  These  Forms  of 
Sell  fence. 
A.     A\niy  balanced  sentences  are  used. 
Though  Macaulay  restricted  himself  so 
much    to    balanced    and    periodic    sen- 
tences, he  gave  variety  to  his  balanced 
forms  in  order  that  the  reader  might 
not  be  wearied. 
Thus : 

(a)     Halves  or  parts  of  sentences 

225 


in  balance.  "They  saw  the  debt 
grow :  and  they  forgot  that  other 
things  grew  as  well  as  the  debt." 
I\',  400.  "They  greatly  over- 
rated the  pressure  of  the  bur- 
den :  they  greatly  underrated  the 
strength  by  which  that  burden 
was  to  be  borne."  IV,  400. 
"The  faults  (of  the  Ulsterman) 
have,  as  was  natural,  been  most 
offensively  exhibited  in  times  of 
prosperity  and  security:  the  vir- 
tues have  been  most  resplendent 
in  times  of  distress  and  peril ; 
and  never  were  those  virtues 
more  signally  displayed  than  by 
the  defenders  of  Londonderry 
.  .  .  "  (the  sentence  contin- 
ues for  three  lines)  TIT,  182. 
(b)  Successive  sentences  in  bal- 
ance. 
"The  character  [of  the  Ulster- 
men]  thus  formed,  has  two  as- 
pects. Seen  on  one  side,  it  must 
1)-^  regarded  by  every  well  con- 
stituted mind  with  disapproba- 
tion. Seen  on  the  other,  it  irre- 
sistibly extorts  applause.  The 
Spartan,    smiting    and    spurning 

226 


the  wretched  Helot,  moves  our 
disgust.     But  the  same  Spartan, 
calmly  dressing  his  hair,  and  ut- 
tering his  concise  jests,  on  what 
he  well  knows  to  be  his  last  day, 
in    the   pass   of   Thermopylae,   is 
not  to  be  contemplated  without 
admiration.     To  a  superficial  ob- 
server it  may  seem  strange  that 
so  much  evil  and  so  much  good 
should  be  found  together.     But 
in   truth   the  good  and  the  evil, 
which    at   first   sight   appear   al- 
most   incompatible,    are    closely 
connected,  and  have  a  common 
origin."     Ill,   181. 
(c)     The    sentence    containing    a 
balance  and  a  periodic  end- 
ing. 
"There  could  not  be  equality  be- 
tween men  who  lived  in  houses  and 
men    who    lived    in    sties,   between 
men   who   fed   on  bread   and  men 
who  were  fed  on  potatoes,  between 
men   who   spake  the  noble  tongue 
of  great  philosophers    and    poets, 
and  men   who,  with    a    perverted 
pride,  boasted  that  they  could  not 
writhe  their  mouths  into  chatter- 


ing  such  a  jargon  as  that  in  which 
the  Advancement  of  Learning  and 
the  Paradise  Lost  were  written." 
n,   180. 

"It  is  a  truth  ever  present  to  his 
mind    tliat   his   own    wellbeing   de- 
pends   on    the    ascendency    of    the 
class    to    which    he   belongs.      His 
very   selfishness   therefore   is   siib- 
linied  into  public  spirit;  and  this 
public  spirit  is  stimulated  to  fierce 
enthusiasm  by  sympathy,  by  the  de- 
sire of  apf'lause,  and  by  the  dread 
of  infamy.     For  the  only  opinion 
which  he  values  is  the  opinion  of 
his   fellows :   and   in   their  opinion 
devotion   to  the  common   cause  is 
the    most    sacred    of    duties."    Ill, 
181. 
B.     Use  of  periodic  sentences  towards  the 
paragraph-end. 
This  is   a  common   artifice  of   Macau- 
lav's  for  rounding  oflf  his  expository  par- 
agraphs and   raising  the  mind  to  a  high 
pitch    of    excitement.     Towards    the    last 
quarter   of   a   paragraph    it    is   noticeable 
that   the    sentences   become   periodic   and 
grow  longer  and  the  paragraph  ends  with 
impetus. 


228 


Thus,  the  paragraph  of  2^4  pages  on 
the  character  of  the  Ulstercnen  closes : 

"Something  of  the  same  character,  com- 
pounded of  tyrant  and  hero,  has  been 
found  in  all  nations  which  have  dominat- 
ed over  more  numerous  nations.  But  it 
has  nowhere  in  modern  Europe  shown 
itself  so  conspicuously  as  in  Ireland. 
With  what  contempt,  with  what  antip- 
athy the  ruling  minority  in  that  country 
long  regarded  the  subject  majority  may 
be  best  learned  from  the  hateful  laws 
which,  within  the  memory  of  men  still 
living,  disgraced  the  Irish  statute  book. 
Those  laws  were  at  length  annulled  but 
the  spirit  which  had  dictated  them  sur- 
vived them,  and  even  at  this  day  some- 
times breaks  out  in  excesses  pernicious  to 
the  commonwealth  and  dishonourable  to 
the  Protestant  religion.  Nevertheless  it 
is  impossible  to  deny  that  the  English  col- 
onists have  had,  with  too  many  of  the 
faults,  all  the  noblest  virtues  of  a  sover- 
eign caste.  The  faults  have,  as  was  nat- 
ural, been  most  offensively  exhibited  in 
times  of  prosperity  and  security,  the  vir- 
tues have  been  most  resplendent  in  times 
of  distress  and  peril,  and  never  were  those 
virtues  more   signally   displayed   than   by 


the  defenders  of  Londonderry,  when  their 
Governor  had  abandoned  them,  and  when 
the  camp  of  their  mortal  enemy  was 
pitched  before  their  walls."  Ill,  181-182. 
C.     Use  of  short  sentences. 

(a)     Oracularly,  i.  e.,  for  point. 

1.  At   the   beginning  of   an   exposi- 

tory paragraph. 
Bv  this  means  the  point  of  a  para- 
graph is  known  at  once.  Thus : 
"The  History  of  Monmouth  would 
alone  suffice  to  refute  the  imputa- 
tion of  inconstancy  which  is  so  fre- 
quently thrown  on  the  common 
people."     I,  565. 

"No  English  sovereign  has  given 
stronger  proof  of  a  cruel  nature 
than  James  II."  I,  588. 
"The  truth  is  that  the  dispensing 
power  was  a  great  anomaly  in  poli- 
tics."    I,  207. 

2.  In   the  middle  of  an   expository 
paragraph. 

Here   the   succinctness   of   state- 
ment brings  out  the  point  sharply 
and  makes  it  stand  out  boldly. 
See:     ^lany   of   the   paragraphs 
in   the   celebrated   passage   on 
James's  policy  when  his  power 


230 


was  at  its  height,  II,  13-22. 
Within  the  first  paragraph  we 
read  :  "The  corporations  were 
filled  with  his  creatures.  His 
revenues  far  exceeded  those 
of  his  predecessors.  His  pride 
rose  high." 
(b)     For  Movement. 

The  use  of  short  sentences  for  move- 
ment is  noticeable  in  all  of  Macaulay's 
description  of  operations  and  attend- 
ant circumstances,  and  in  rapid  narra- 
tion. 
Concliidiiuj   Observations. 

A.  The  sentence  forms  favoured  by 
]Macaulay,  namely,  the  short  sentence, 
which  is  direct  and  contains  no  restric- 
tion ;  the  balanced,  which  has  two  equal 
or  nearly  equal  parts ;  the  periodic, 
which  has  its  parts  so  placed  that  em- 
phasis will  come  at  the  end  of  the  sen- 
tence, all  demand  from  their  very  na- 
ture unusual  care  to  ensure  absolute 
correctness  and  neatness.  How  much 
care  can  be  learned  from  a  comparison 
of  Macaulay's  periods  with  the  slap- 
dash of  the  ordinary  writer. 

B.  Macaulay's   carefulness   proven : 

(a)      Objectively,    from   the  testimony 
of  Trevelyan. 
asi 


Macaulay's  consistency,  in  general, 
with  his  theory,  his  canons  for  histor- 
ical writing,  have  already  been  spoken 
of  in  this  treatise.  How  scrupulous  he 
was  in  the  minutiae  of  his  sentence- 
structure,  needs  now  to  be  mentioned. 
Trevelyan,  in  the  Life  and  Letters  of 
Macaulay  already  referred  to,  says: 
"Macaulay  never  allowed  a  sentence  to 
pass  muster  until  it  was  as  good  as  he 
could  make  it.  He  thought  little  of  re- 
casting a  chapter  in  order  to  obtain  a 
more  lucid  arrangement,  and  nothing 
whatever  of  reconstructing  a  paragraph 
for  the  sake  of  a  happy  stroke."  "He 
could  not  rest  until  the  lines  were  level 
to  a  hair's  breadth,  and  the  punctuation 
correct  to  a  comma ;  until  every  para- 
graph concluded  with  a  telling  sentence, 
and  every  sentence  flowed  like  running 
water."  And  Trevelyan  adds  that  Mac- 
aulay wrote  to  Mr.  Longman  about  the 
edition  of  1858,  "I  have  no  more  cor- 
rections to  make  at  present.  I  am  in- 
clined to  hope  that  the  book  will  be  as 
nearly  faultless,  as  to  typographical  ex- 
ecution, as  any  work  of  equal  extent 
that  is  to  be  found  in  the  world."* 


Life  and  Letters  of  Macaulay,  Pp.  200,  203. 
282 


(b)  From  the  internal  evidence  of  the 
sentences  themselves. 
High  sounding  as  these  words  of 
Trevelvan  are,  the  truth  of  them  is 
borne  out  by  an  industrious  and  pains- 
taking scrutiny  of  Macaulay's  sentence- 
structure  in  the  History.  Never  was 
there  sentence-structure  more  faultless 
in  execution.  The  sentence-forms  em- 
ployed required  care  in  order  to  ensure 
correctness.  ]\lacaulay  gave  unstinted 
care.  Therefore  minute  examination 
of  his  lines  can  find  little  fault  in  them. 
Some  men  may  prefer  the  informal 
sentence-structure,  but  every  man  must 
find  the  formal  sentence-structure  of 
the  History,  after  its  kind,  beyond  crit- 
icism. 
C.  Macaulay's  correctness : 
(a)      In  the  syntax  itself. 

As  in  the  paragraph,  so  in  the  syn- 
tax. ]\Iacaulay  is  correct.  His  dili- 
gence, his  refined  sentence-feeling,  so 
to  speak,  his  impatience  with  error,  his 
ambition  to  make  every  sentence  and 
everv  paragraph  a  model  of  excellence, 
resulted  in  perfect  syntax. 
(h)  In  the  relative  places  assigned  to 
the  clause  and  phrase  embodying  the 

233 


leading  thought  and  the  subordinate 

thought. 

But  sentences  may  be  correct,  and 
yet  not  neat.  Sometimes  a  new  arrange- 
ment of  clause  and  phrase  may  better 
suit  the  eye  and  the  ear.  In  mastery 
of  arrangement,  whether  it  be  in 
paragraphing  or  sentence  -  structure. 
Macaulay  was  equally  preeminent.  As 
-far  as  sentence-structure  is  concerned 
his  masterly  arrangement  of  clause  and 
phrase  in  balanced  and  periodic  sen- 
tences is  admirable.  The  balance  is  al- 
ways nicely  adjusted,  as  in  Pope's  coup- 
lets. The  periodic  sentences,  short  or 
long,  prove  the  great  rhetorician's 
scrupulosity  in  the  placing  of  subordi- 
nate thought  and  leading  thought  in 
that  order  which  would  strike  hardest 
at  the  close. 


234 


CHAPTER  IX 

PROPERTIES  OF  THE  SENTENCE  IN  MACAULAY 


(A)     Unity. 

1.  Macauloy's  Painstaking. 

It  is  merely  another  way  of  saying  that 
Macaulay  was  careful  in  sentence-structure, 
to  say,  that  it  was  his  habit  to  finish  his  sen- 
tences to  a  nicety.  His  short  sentences  are 
as  finished  as  they  are  short ;  his  periodic 
and  balanced  sentences  are  each  an  organ- 
ized whole.  A  man  of  his  literary  sensi- 
tiveness and  so  thorough  in  revision,  would 
leave  no  tags  to  his  sentences,  nor  tolerate 
redundancies. 

2.  Occasional  Lack  of  Strict  Unity;  Faulty 

Punctuation. 
Several  critics,  particularly  Mo/t-Jsoa.  and 
]\Iinto,  have  observed  that  ^vlacaulay,  in  the 
Essays,  sometimes  lapses  into  the  error  of 
overloading  his  sentences  with  details.  In 
other  words,  he  btmches  into  one  sentence 
many  statements  which  could  have  been  bet- 
ter formulated  in  several  sentences.  This  is 
true    also    of    his    work    in    the    History. 

235 


^Iacalliay  seems  to  have  felt  at  times  that 
his  sentences  were  getting  too  short  and 
scrappy  and,  accordingly,  massed  many 
statements  in  one  sentence,  separating  them 
by  colon  and  semicolon.  The  present  writer 
has  noted  several  dozen  instances.  One  or 
two  citations  will  bear  out  his  opinion. 

(a)  At  the  end  of  a  paragraph,  after 
many  short  sentences,  we  read:  "The 
chancellor  fell  with  a  great  ruin.  The 
seal  was  taken  from  him;  his  head  was 
not  safe:  he  fled  from  the  country;  an 
act  was  passed  which  doomed  him  to 
perpetual  exile;  and  those  who  had  as- 
sailed and  undermined  him  began  to 
struggle  for  the  fragments  of  his 
power."     I,  185. 

(b)  "'The  town  (Namur)  was  strong; 
the  castle  was  believed  to  be  impregna- 
ble ;  the  magazines  were  filled  with  pro- 
visions and  ammunition  sufficient  .  .  . 
winter  quarters ;  the  garrison  consisted 
of  sixteen  thousand  of  the  best  troops 
in  the  world ;  they  were  commanded  by 
an  excellent  general ;  he  was  assisted 
by  an  excellent  engineer ;  nor  was  it 
doubted  that  \'illeroy  could  march  with 
his  great  army  to  the  assistance  of 
Boufflers,  and  that  the  besiegers  would 

236 


be  in  much  more  danger  than  the  be- 
sieged."    V.  56. 
3.     Lack  of  Unity  in  Adjusting  Sentences 
to  the  Paragraph:  Stringing  Togeth- 
er Sentences  Without  Connectires. 
It  has  been  observed  in  a  previous  chajv 
ter  that  Macaulay  habitually  suppressed  con- 
nectives.    This  is  apt  to  make  parts  of  par- 
agraphs, and  sometimes  whole  paragraphs, 
choppy.     Almost  every  sentence  of  Macau- 
lay's,  considered  as  a  unit,  may  be  correct  in 
composition.     Nevertheless,  his  non-use  of 
connectives — "like,"    "accordingly."     "how- 
ever." "thus."  "hence."  etc..  which  are  con- 
sidered   necessary    in    the   modern    English 
paragraph  for  the  sake  of  sequence — is  open 
to  criticism.     Connectives  amalgamate  sen- 
tence with  sentence,  and  carry  on  the  para- 
graph sequence. 
(B)     Clearness. 

1.     Care  in  the  Use  of  Modifiers. 

One  of  the  sources  of  clearness  in  Macau- 
lav's  writing  is  his  freedom  from  confusion 
in  the  use  of  modifiers.  .All  the  phrases 
which  express  time,  place,  manner,  are  u.sed 
neatly,  as  well  as  correctly,  \ever  are  the 
words  "either."  "or,"  "only."  "not  only." 
"alone."  "still."  improperly  used.  Moreover, 
Macaulay  has  the  knack  of  employing  these 

237 


words  in  such  places  as  to  give  vigor  to  his 
expression.  A  single  instance  is  :  "The  his- 
tory of  Monmouth  would  olone  suffice  to  re- 
fute the  imputation  of  inconstancy  which  is 
so  often  thrown  on  the  common  people." 

2.  Care  in  the  Use  of  Personal  Pronouns. 
The  forms  of  sentence  which  were  IVIa- 

caulay's  choice,  if  they  are  to  be  composed 
correctly  and  neatly,  require  necessary  vigi- 
lance in  the  use  of  pronouns.  In  the  use  of 
personal  pronouns,  Macaulay  deliberately 
guarded  as  far  as  possible  against  construc- 
tions involving  any  other  case  than  the  nom- 
inative. In  many  places  where  other  writers 
would  have  written  complex  sentences,  \Ia- 
caulay.  because  of  his  dislike  of  involved 
construction  and  for  the  sake  of  clearness, 
frequently  broke  what  might  be  a  complex 
sentence  into  many  sentences  beginning 
with  he  and  they. 

3.  Care  in  the  Use  of  the  Neuter  fit)  and 

Relative  Pronouns. 
The  stumbling  block  of  several  great  writ- 
ers, for  example,  Addison,  and  of  most 
young  writers,  is  the  neuter  pronoun  it.  That 
pronoun  is  never  used  incorrectly  in  the 
History.  Indeed.  IMacaulay's  work  serves  as 
a  model  in  this  respect.  See  the  paragraph 
beginning,    "The    truth    is    the    dispensing 

238 


l)0\ver  was  a  great  anomaly  in  politics.     It 
was  Utterly  nioonsistent     ...  i,  -w/, 

ch.  2.  It.  referring  to  "dispensing  power." 
is  used  in  every  sentence  in  the  paragraph. 
Likewise  in  the  use  of  relative  pronouns 
Alacaulay  is  a  model.  Relatives  are  never 
omitted  when  needed.  They  seldom  are  too 
far  from  an  antecedent,  and  are  never  with- 
out one. 
4.     Care  in  the  Use  of  Deiiwiistrative  Fro- 

llOltJlS. 

The  confusion  of  that  and  zchich.  an  error 
found  in  the  prose  of  otherwise  excellent 
writers,  is  never  noticealile  in  ^Nlacaulay. 
Besides,  in  order  to  avoid  ohscurity.  he  has 
a  habit  of  repeating  his  thats  at  the  begin- 
ning of  many  successive  clauses  where  some 
writers  would  have  made  a  single  demon- 
strative suffice. 

5.  Repetition  of  Personal  Pronouns,  Ad- 
jectives, T^erbs.  and  Xonus. 
Not  only  does  the  historian  repeat  the 
same  personal  pronoun,  adjective,  verb  and 
noun  in  many  successive  sentences,  as  was 
shown  in  chapter  6  of  this  treatise,  he  also 
repeats  them  in  single  sentences.  Obviously 
in  single  sentences,  as  in  successive  sen- 
tences, the  repetition  is  for  the  sake  of 
clearness.     The  reader  may  find  many  ex- 


23B 


amjiles  of  repetition  of  pronoun,  adjective, 
etc.,  in  a  single  sentence  in  any  chapter  of 
the  History. 

6.  Use  of  "and." 

Macanlay's  use  of  a/;fl'-initial  was  criti- 
cised in  our  second  chapter.  Of  course  the 
commonest  use  of  and  is  as  a  connective 
within  the  sentence.  Here  many  great  writ- 
ers, and  most  ordinary  writers,  err  by  using 
the  connective  immoderately.  IMacaulay 
uses  the  and  within  the  paragraph  moder- 
ately, and,  in  such  places,  correctly. 

7.  Sice  Use  of  .Uzuvhs. 

Nothing  can  he  more  awkward  in  a  writer 
and  more  trying  to  his  readers  than  the  mis- 
placing of  adverbs.  Adverbs  properly  placed 
are  forcible ;  improperly  placed  they  are 
most  irritating.  Macaulay,  in  accordance 
with  that  keen  sense  of  diction  for  which 
he  was  celebrated  in  his  essays  and  in  his 
poetry,  has  been  very  discriminating  in  his 
use  of  adverbs.  Note  the  use  of  "justly" 
in  the  following  citations:  "Neither  of  the 
hostile  castes  can  justly  be  absolved  from 
blame."  H,  1?2.  "The  mother  country 
justly  regarded  their  cause  as  her  own."  H, 
1.31. 

8.  A-eoidancc  of  Very  Long  Sentences. 
Macaulay's   avoidance   of   long  sentences 

240 


has  previously  been  remarked  upon.  But 
adequate  explanation  was  not  given.  It  is 
true,  as  Coleridge  has  remarked,  that  in  a 
single  long  sentence  the  whole  of  an  idea, 
in  all  its  parts,  can  be  presented.*  This  has 
been  proven  in  modern  times,  for  e.xample, 
by  Coleridge  himself  in  his  metaphvsical 
writings  ;  and.  in  the  Elizabethan  era,  in  the 
long  sentences  of  Hasker's  Ecclesiastical 
Polity.  Nevertheless,  modern  practice  is 
against  very  long  sentences.  The  question 
is  really  one  of  utility.  Long  sentences  are 
a  necessity  for  the  presentation  of  certain 
kinds  of  thought.  There  were  two  reasons 
why  Macaulay  avoided  long  sentences.  The 
first  was  his  constitutional  dislike  of  the 
long,  rambling  sentences.  The  second  was 
that  the  kind  of  thought  he  had  to  present 
did  not  recjuire  such  sentences.  These  two 
things  combined  to  make  Macaulay  deliver 
himself  in  short  sentences  with  that  clear- 
ness for  which  he  is  justly  celebrated. 
9.  Use  of  "for"  at  the  Beginning  of  Sen- 
teiiees.  Explanation. 
Perhaps  nothing  signalizes  Macaulay's 
dislike  of  long  sentences  better  than  his  use 
of  the  word  for  at  the  beginning  of  the  sen- 
tences.    Scattered    throughout    the    Historv 


•See:  The  Friend. 

241 


are  many  groups  of  two  or  three  sentences 
which  most  writers  would  combine  into  one. 
Instead  of  making  the  explanation  which  is 
introduced  with  for  a  subordinate  part  of 
the  main  statement,  the  historian  almost  al- 
ways detaches  it  and  makes  it  an  independ- 
ent sentence.  Thus :  "  .  .  .  they  clear- 
ly ought  to  have  supported  the  Exclusion 
Bill.  For  to  place  a  papist  on  the  throne 
was  monstrous."  I,  466.  "In  fact, 
however,  his  condition  was  more  pitiable 
and  irritating  than  theirs.  For  though  not 
persecuted  as  a  Roman  Catholic,  he  was  op- 
pressed as  an  Irishman."     II,  123. 

10.  Tlic  Leading  Thouglif  of  a  Paragraph 

Stated  in  a  Simple  Sentence. 
The  possibilitv  of  easily  following  the 
thought  of  a  paragraph  depends  upon  clear 
apprehension  of  the  leading  thought  at  the 
start.  In  general  ]\Iacaulay  places  the  lead- 
ing thought  of  a  paragraph  in  a  short,  sim- 
ple sentence  at  or  near  the  beginning.  The 
drift  of  the  thought  of  a  paragraph  is  thus 
made  clear. 

11.  Lnininonsness   and    Clearness   Due    to 

Avoidance   of   Loose   Structure   and 
Preference  for  Formal  Sentences. 
Clearness  in  ]\lacaulay.  however,  is  most- 
ly due  to  the  forms  of  sentence  which  he  fa- 

242 


vnred.  The  nature  of  the  loose  sentence  is 
such  that  it  is  a  good  medium  for  the  deHv- 
ery  of  chit-chat,  odds  and  ends  of  thought, 
conversation:  in  short,  it  is  the  sentence  for 
famihar  talk.  easy,  flowing,  informal  writ- 
ing. The  very  nature  of  the  balanced  and 
periodic  structure  is  such  that  in  it  great 
care  is  needed  in  the  placing  of  every  part 
of  speech.  Clause  and  phrase  must  each 
be  in  a  definite  place.  Stress  must  be  laid 
at  a  particular  point.  The  formal  style, 
therefore,  if  it  is  also  correct,  must  always 
be  the  clearest  style  in  which  to  present 
thought  as  simple  as  IVIacaulay's.  The  his- 
torian's clearness  is  largely  due  to  his  em- 
jiloyment  of  short,  balanced  and  periodic 
sentences. 

(C)     Force. 

1.     Ill  tJie  Sentence. 

A.  Avoidance  of  loose  sentences. 

By  avoiding  loose  sentences,  not  only 
did  Macaulay  gain  clearness ;  he  gained 
force.  Orderliness,  concentration  of 
material,  and  forcible  utterance  are 
best  obtained  in  the  sentence-structure 
which  was  his  choice. 

B.  Apt  use  of  interrogative  sentences. 
The  historian  did  not  use  interrogative 

243 


sentences  haphazard  or  spasmodically,  as 
do  many  writers.  Interrogative  sentences, 
when  found  in  the  History,  are  bunched 
in  a  single  paragraph  or  series  of  para- 
graphs, evidently  with  a  purpose.  In 
truth,  the  use  of  interrogative  sentences 
in  such  paragraphs  is  a  device  of  ]\Iacau- 
lay's  for  force. 
C.     Use  of  short  sentences. 

1.  For  bold,  direct  statement. 
Besides    the    ordinary    use    of    short 

sentences  in  description  and  narration, 
Alacaulay  uses  them  on  special  occa- 
sions for  extraordinarily  forcible  ex- 
pression. Under  such  conditions  they 
occur  at  the  beginning  or  within  a  par- 
agraph ;  seldom  at  the  end. 

2.  To  mark  the  half-way  point  of  a 
paragraph. 

This  is  a  very  striking  device.  Hav- 
ing given  the  first  half  of  the  paragraph 
to  a  certain  aspect  or  part  of  the  main 
thought  of  the  whole  paragraph,  the 
historian  indicates  his  intention  of  turn- 
ing to  the  second  aspect  or  part  of  the 
thought,  by  writing  sharp,  short  sen- 
tences, thus  : 

a.  In  the  first  half  of  the  paragraph 
beginning,    "Unhappily    James    in- 

244 


stead  of  becoming  ..."  It, 
131.  ch.  6.,  the  great  writer  has 
been  speaking  of  James's  partisan- 
ship. The  second  part  begins : 
'"But  this  was  the  smallest  part  of 
his  guilt  and  madness." 
b.  In  the  first  half  of  the  first  para- 
graph of  ch.  6,  the  historian  speaks 
of  James's  prosperity.  The  sec- 
ond half  of  the  paragraph  is  most- 
ly in  periodic  sentences.  This  half 
is  begun  :  "The  corporations  were 
filled  with  his  creatures.  His  rev- 
enues far  exceeded  those  of  his 
predecessors.  His  pride  rose  high." 
3.  To  end  a  climax  and  turn  to  a  fresh 
subject. 

Sometimes  when  a  climax  is  conclud- 
ed, a  short  sentence  makes  a  convenient 
turn  towards  a  new  subject.  Thus, 
after  a  grand  clima.x  on  the  partisan- 
ship of  James,  already  referred  to,  the 
historian  closes  his  paragraph,  "Such 
were  the  bitter  fruits  of  the  policy  of 
James."  A  new  paragraph  then  begins. 
D.     Periodic  sentences. 

1.     Stress  coming  at  the  end  in  a  single 
word  or  thought. 
See:     "Yet  surely  the  presumption  is 

346 


that  what  the  most  honest  and  hon- 
ourable men  of  both  parties,  Not- 
tingham for  example  among  the 
Tories,  and  Somers  among  the 
Whigs,  not  only  did,  but  avowed, 
cannot  have  been  altogether  inex- 
cusable; and  a  very  sufficient  ex- 
cuse will  without  difficulty  be 
found."'  I\',  120.  The  excuse  is 
given  in  the  next  two  paragraphs. 
2.  The  stress  coming  on  the  climactic 
word  of  a  series. 

At  the  close  of  a  paragraph  in  IV, 
121,  ch.  17,  we  read :  "Yet  it  would  be 
a  great  error  to  imagine,  even  now,  that 
our  princes  merely  reign  and  never 
govern.  In  the  seventeenth  century, 
both  Whigs  and  Tories  thought  it,  not 
only  right,  but  the  duty,  of  the  first 
magistrate  to  govern.  All  parties  agreed 
in  blaming  Charles  the  Second  for  not 
being  his  own  Prime  Minister.  All  par- 
ties agreed  in  praising  James  for  being 
his  own  Lord  High  Admiral ;  and  all 
parties  thought  it  natural  and  reason- 
able that  William  should  be  his  own 
Foreign  Secretary.  Note  the  force  of 
Foreign  Secretary.  The  historian  ar- 
ranges, not  only  the  series  of  sentences, 

246 


but  the  whole  paragraph,  to  get  the  two 
words  Foreign  Secretary  at  the  end. 
I.     Balanced  sentences. 

1.     Stress   on   the   second   part   of   the 
balance. 

"For  though  not  persecuted  as  a 
Roman  Catholic,  he  was  oppressed  as 
an  Irishman.  In  his  country  the 
same  line  of  demarcation  which  sep- 
arated religions  separated  races,  and 
he  was  of  the  conquered,  the  subju- 
gated, the  degraded  race."  II.  131. 
3.  Stress  on  the  first  part  of  the  bal- 
ance. 

"To  this  day  a  more  than  Spartan 
haughtiness  alloys  the  many  noble 
qualities  which  characterize  the  chil- 
dren of  the  victors,  while  a  Helot 
feeling,  compounded  of  awe  and  ha- 
tred, is  but  too  often  discernible  in 
the  children  of  the  vanquished."  II, 
130. 
F.     Chiasmus. 

^^'e  should  expect  a  writer  like  ^lacau- 
lay,  whose  mind  was  saturated  with  Greek 
and  Latin  classics,  to  employ  rhetorical 
artifices  found  in  those  two  languages. 
Such  an  one  is  the  inverted  balance,  called 
by  the  Greeks  Chiasmus. 

247 


Thus :     "The  old  proprietors,  by  their 
effort  to  recover  what  they  had  lost, 
lost   the   greater   part   of   what   they 
had  retained."     II,  131,  ch.  6. 
2.     The  Place  of  the  Sitbject-Seiifeiice. 

The  forcibleness  of  a  series  of  sentences 
depends  among  other  things  upon  the  place 
where  the  leading  thought  is  found.  Great 
writers,  therefore,  aim  to  display  the  leading 
thought  at  the  beginning  of  a  paragraph, 
towards  the  middle,  or  at  the  end.  At  any 
rate  Alacaulay  attempts  to  stamp  the  leading 
thought  on  the  memory  by  placing  it  at  the 
beginning  or  the  end  of  a  paragraph. 

A.  At  the  beginning. 

1.  A  paragraph  on  the  obscurity  of  the 
dispensing  power  in  Charles  II's 
reign  begins:  "It  must  in  candour 
be  admitted  that  the  constitutional 
question  was  not  then  free  from  ob- 
scurity."    I.  206. 

2.  Another,  on  the  cruelty  of  James, 
begins:  "No  English  sovereign  has 
ever  given  stronger  proof  of  a  cruel 
nature  than  James  II."     I,  588. 

B.  At  the  end. 

The  commonest  place  for  the  subject- 
sentence  in  the  History  is  at  the  beginning, 
or    near    the    beginning,    of    paragraphs. 

248 


Sometimes  it  is  found  at  the  end.  Thus, 
at  the  end  of  a  paragrajih  on  James's  ec- 
centric clemency,  we  read:  "It  (the 
eccentric  clemency )  may  be  distinctly 
traced  in  every  case  either  to  a  sordid  or 
to  a  malignant  motive,  either  to  a  thirst 
for  money  or  thirst  for  blood."  I,  390. 
C.  Cogent  expression  of  topic  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  paragraph,  with  repeti- 
tion at  the  end  in  different  language. 

.\  paragraph  on  historic  proofs  of 
the  popular  opinion  that,  "the  Roman 
Catholic,  where  the  interests  of  his  re- 
ligion were  concerned,  thought  himself 
free  from  the  ordinary  rules  of  moral- 
ity." 

The  paragraph  begins:  "Nor  w^as 
this  opinion  |as  above]  destitute  of  a 
show  of  reason."  And  ends:  "the  in- 
ference popularly  drawn  from  these 
things  was  that,  however  fair  the  gen- 
eral character  of  a  Papist  might  be, 
there  was  no  excess  of  fraud  or  cru- 
eltv  of  which  he  was  not  capable  when 
the  safety  or  honour  of  his  Church  was 
at  stake."  II,  18. 
D.  At  the  beginning,  middle  and  end  of 
a  paragraph. 
See:    \,   120,  ch.   20.     The  paragraph 

249 


begins :  "The  English  regard  assas- 
sination, and  have  during  some  ages 
regarded  it,  with  a  loathing  peculiar 
to  themselves."  In  the  centre  of  the 
paragraph  we  read:  "Scarcely  an 
Englishman,  not  utterly  destitute  of 
conscience  or  honor,  will  engage  in  a 
plot  for  slaying  an  unsuspecting  fel- 
low creature."  The  paragraph  ends  : 
"To  bring  together  in  one  body  forty 
Englishmen  all  hardened  cutthroats, 
and  yet  all  so  upright  and  generous 
that  neither  the  hope  of  opulence  nor 
the  dread  of  the  gallows  can  tempt 
any  one  of  them  to  be  false  to  the 
rest,  has  hitherto  been  found,  and 
w\\\,  it  is  hoped,  always  be  found  im- 
possible." 

/;;  the  Adjustment  of  the  Sentences  to 
the  Paragraph. 

A.  Climax  within  the  paragraph  read- 
ing to  grand  climax  at  the  end  of  the 
paragraph. 

See  the  paragraph  opening:  "Unhap- 
pily James,  instead  of  becoming  a  me- 
diator ..."  II,  130-131,  ch.  6.  The 
paragraph  is  on  James's  partisanship 
and  its  unhappy  consequences.  There 
are  two  climaxes,  one  occurring  in  the 

250 


centre  in  a  series  of  short  sentences ; 
the  other  at  the  end.  See  also:  The 
first  paragraph  of  ch.  6.  Two  chmaxes, 
one  at  the  centre  the  other  at  the  end. 

B.  The  rise  into  periodic  sentences  of 
increasing  length  in  forcihle  expression 
of  opinion. 

See  ISIacaulay's  opinions  of  the  Place 
r.ill  in  the  paragraphs  beginning: 
"The  subordinate  functionaries  ought 
to  be  excluded  ..."  and.  "still 
more  noxious  if  possible  .  .  . 
I\'.  408-409,  ch.  19. 

C.  Emphatic  word. 

It  is  not  very  difficult  to  open  a  para- 
graph with  a  powerful,  emphatic  word; 
but  it  is  certainly  no  small  accomplish- 
ment to  so  carry  out  all  the  details  of  the 
paragraph  that  they  will  converge  in  a 
single  emphatic  word  at  the  end.  Macau- 
lay  has  succeeded  in  both  of  these  things. 
1.  Emphatic  word  at  the  beginning  of 
a  paragraph. 

See:  "Aiiistcrdaiu  was  the  place 
where  the  leading  emigrants, 
Scotch  and  Irish,  assemliled."  I, 
487,  ch.  3. 

After  many  paragraphs  on  James's 
blameworthy    action    towards    Ire- 

251 


land,  in  which,  however,  he  is  not 
mentioned,  the  historian  opens  a 
paragraph  :  "James  himself  seemed, 
at  the  commencement  of  his  reign, 
to  be  perfectly  aware  of  these 
truths."  II,  128,  ch.  6. 
Emphatic    word    at    the    end    of    a 

paragraph. 

See,  the  paragraph  beginning,  "Wil- 
liam had  under  his  command  near- 
ly thirty-six  thousand  men  ..." 
IV,  21,  ch.  16.  This  is  a  eulogy 
of  the  army  of  William  just  before 
the  description  of  the  battle  of  the 
15oyne.  Up  to  this  time  Macaulay 
has  hardly  mentioned  the  word 
Boyne.  He  brings  it  in  with  start- 
ling effect  as  the  last  word  of  the 
paragraph.  See  also,  "The  gen- 
eral to  whom  the  direction  of  the 
expedition  against  Ireland  ..." 
Ill,  Z72,  ch.  14.  Here  we  have  a 
paragraph  two  pages  long  on 
Schomberg,  in  the  second  half  of 
which  the  tribute  paid  to  him  by 
the  Commons  is  compared  to  the 
tribute  paid  to  a  general  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  years  later. 
The   name   of   the   general    is   not 


252 


mentioned.     Suddenly,  at  the  very 
end   of   the   paragraph   occurs   the 
word  W'cUinyton. 
D.     Adjusting    the    sentence-structure    to 
energetic  expression. 
There  are  times  when  a  theme  in  the 
HistorA-    has    extraordinary    interest    for 
Macaulay;  when  the  subject  and  the  oc- 
casion call  into  action  the  full  play  of  his 
genius ;   when   he    is   carried   away   by   a 
consummate    flame    of    eloquence.     Such 
passages  are  eminently  worthy  of  special 
study.     Even     here,     exalted    as    is    his 
theme.  ra])id  as  is  his  utterance,  passion- 
ate as  is  the  surge  of  his  elocjuence,  his 
sentences    are    finished ;    he    is    self-con- 
trolled.    These  passages  have  the  air  of 
spontaneity,  but  the  close  student  discov- 
ers   order    and    arrangement    where    the 
careless  eye  sees  only  play  of  light. 

Perhaps  no  ]:)assage  in  the  History  is 
more  justly  celebrated  than  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  siege  of  Londonderry.  In  that 
passage  there  is  nothing  more  vigorous, 
more  noble,  nothing  written  with  more  en- 
thusiasm than  the  character-description  of 
the  XHstermen  (ITT.  1/0-182).  To  this 
we  turn  for  a  study  of  Macaulay's  adjust- 
ment of  sentence-structure  to  energetic 
expression. 

253 


1.  Partition  of  paragraph  into  sec- 
tions, each  section  deahng  with  a 
part  of  the  general  theme  and  having 
the  same,  or  nearly  the  same,  number 
of  sentences. 

The  passage  spoken  of  consists  of  one 
paragraph  of  2^^  pages.  The  sub- 
ject is  treated  in  four  nearly  equal 
parts  ;  first,  introduction  and  compar- 
ison of  the  Ulstermen  with  the  Puri- 
tans and  Cromwellians :  second,  com- 
parison with  the  Castilians ;  third, 
comparison  with  the  Spartans  ;  fourth, 
conclusion. 

2.  Repetition  of  the  leading  thought 
of  a  section  at  the  beginning  and 
end. 

Each  comparison  which  is  made  in 
this  passage  brings  out  a  new  phase  of 
the  character  of  the  Ulstermen.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  third  and  most  impor- 
tant section,  that  on  the  Spartans,  we 
read :  In  all  ages,  men  situated  as  the 
Anglo  Saxons  in  Ireland  were  situated, 
have  peculiar  vices  and  peculiar  virtues, 
the  vices  and  virtues  of  masters,  as  op- 
posed to  the  vices  and  virtues  of 
slaves."  And  at  the  end  of  the  sec- 
tion:    "Something  of  the  same  charac- 

264 


ter,  compounded  of  tyrant  and  hero,  ha?? 
been  found  in  all  nations  which  have 
dominated  over  more  numerous  na- 
tions." With  Macaulay  clear  thought 
means  accurate  expression.  How  clear- 
ly he  thought,  and  how  accurately  he 
expressed  his  thought,  comes  out  in 
such  repetition. 

3.  Grouping  of  sections  to  form  a  cli- 
max. 
Moreover,  in  this  great  paragraph 
Macaulay  has  so  grouped  his  sections 
that  each  adds  a  new  phase  to  the 
thought  and  forcibly  expresses  the  facts 
as  to  the  nobility  of  character  of  the 
Ulstermen  exhibited  during  the  siege. 
The  comparison  with  the  Cromwellians 
brings  out  their  religious  zeal  and  in- 
vincibility :  the  comparison  with  the 
Castilians,  their  haughtiness ;  the  com- 
parison with  the  Spartans,  their  calm- 
ness. The  conclusion  summarizes  their 
virtues  and  faults  in  a  series  of  periodic 
sentences  growing  longer  as  we  come  to 
the  grand  climax  at  the  end. 

Note:  (1)  Tn  this  paragraph  there 
are  but  three  simple  sentences  :  all 
the  rest  are  balanced  or  periodic. 
(2)    The  variety  of   the   balanced 

255 


sentences.       (3)    The    increase    in 
number   and    size   of   the   periodic 
sentences  towards  the  cHmax.     ( 4 ) 
Clearness  is  due :  to  the   form  of 
the    sentences,    particularly    to    the 
successive      balances.      embodying 
comparisons.      (  5  )  Force  is  due  :  to 
the  grouping  of  the  sections,  to  the 
rise  towards  climax,  to  the  form  of 
the   sentence-structure,   to   the   cli- 
maxes in  the  sentences  themselevs. 
E.     Brevity,  spacing,  economy  of  words. 
Contradictory    as    it    may    sound,    no 
writer  was  more  proper  in  expression,  yet 
at   the   same  time  more  economical   than 
Macaulay.     His  profuseness  is  shown  in 
the  numerous  passages  where  he  puts  no 
restraint   on    full    expression.      His    econ- 
omy of  words  is  shown  in  his  dropping  of 
connectives,  in  his  directness,  his  straight- 
forwardness, his  aversion  for  roundabout 
locution.     Much    of   his    forcibleness    lies 
in   this   very   fact,   that,   while   he   surges 
onward  carrying  his  readers  with  him  in 
the  flood  of  his  language,  he  steers  clear 
from   contorted   expressions,   which,    like 
eddies,    are    the    danger-points    in    many 
writings.     He  economizes  words  by  drop- 
ping  connectives,    phrases,    leaving   them 

356 


to  be  supplied  by  tbe  reader.  He  avoids 
redundancy.  Everywhere,  in  short,  peri- 
odic or  balanced  sentences,  he  is  brief, 
neat,  clear,  forcible. 

^1^1  Harmoxy. 

1.     iMacaulay's  Taste  for  Harmonious  Flozv 
of  Language:     His  Poetry,  His  Ex- 
pressions in  His  Essays. 
^racaulay,  considered  chronologically,  was 
first  a  poet,  then  an  essayist,  then  an  histo- 
rian.    In  his  poetry  he  evinced  a  taste  for 
harmonious  flow  of  language;  in  his  essays 
he  everywhere  commends  this  quality ;  in  his 
History  it  is  among  his  own  greatest  charms. 
Twice  as  a  student  of  Trinity  he  won  the 
Chancellor's  prize  for  poetry.     One  of  these 
poems.  "Evening,"  which  he  indited  in  1821, 
has   many   real   beauties.     Its   mood   is   the 
mild   pensiveness   which   pervades   Milton's 
II    Penseroso.     There   are   no   verses   in    it 
which  linger  in  the  memory.     But  there  is 
in  it  a  gift  for  melodious  numbers,  cultivated 
to  a  high  degree  of  excellence.     The  Chan- 
cellor's prize  poems  are  not  well  known,  as 
they    were    never   published:    btit    parts    of 
Horatius.    published    in    "Lays    of   Ancient 
Rome,"  can  yet  be   found  in  many  school 
books.     The  heroic  ideals  of  old  Rome,  cast 
into  the  appropriate  metre  found  in  Hora- 

257 


tins,  have  ensured  ]\Iacaulay's  reputation  as 
a  poet  to  the  present  day.  Everyone  who 
knows  anything  about  Macaulay  remembers 
Trevelyan's  account  of  his  love  for  ballads, 
the  astonishing  ease  with  which  he  com- 
posed them,  the  happy  faculty  for  melody 
which  they  evinced.  Everyone  who  has 
read  Macaulay's  essays  on  literary  subjects 
recalls  his  laudation  of  prose  with  stately 
movement.  Not  the  least  part  of  the  enjoy- 
ment of  reading  the  History  is  due  to  the 
melodious  flow  of  the  language. 
1.  The  Absence  of  Barbarisms  and  Ne- 
ologisms from,  His  Language. 
A  marked  feature  of  the  History,  indeed, 
of  the  essays  also,  is  the  absence  of  barba- 
risms. The  .whimsical  introduction  of  gro- 
tesque word-shapes,  which  was  Carlyle's 
fault,  the  coining  of  new  words  which  De 
Ouincey  and  Coleridge  indulged  in,  and 
which  was  the  amiable  weakness  of  Matthew 
Arnold,  cannot  be  reckoned  against  ATacau- 
lay.  He  is  not  a  purist,  yet  his  language  is 
idiomatic.  He  was  slow  to  use  a  new  word, 
yet  had  command  of  all  that  was  pure  and 
best  in  the  English  language  of  his  day. 
Therefore  the  second  source  of  enjoyment 
of  his  language  is  due  to  its  inoffensiveness. 


2B8 


3.  Alliteration. 

An  exhaustive  study  of  the  manifestations 
of  Macaulay's  sense  of  Harmony — that  del- 
icate sensitiveness  to  the  even  flow  of  his 
periods — as  it  is  exhibited  in  the  History, 
would  take  us  too  far  afield.  A  few  citations 
will  illustrate  the  truth.  Alliteration  is  fre- 
quently noticed.  Thus:  "No  amnesty  for 
the  mutual  wrongs  inflicted  by  the  Saxon  de- 
fenders of  Londonderry,  and  by  the  Celtic 
defenders  of  Limerick,  his  ever  been  granted 
from  the  heart  by  either  race.  To  this  day 
a  more  than  Spartan  haughtiness  alloys  the 
many  noble  qualities  which  characterize  the 
children  of  the  Victors,  while  a  Helot  feel- 
ing, compounded  of  awe  and  hatred,  is  but 
too  often  discernible  in  the  children  of  the 
Vanquished."     U,   122. 

4.  Pairing  Words  of  Similar  Sound. 
Excellent   use   of   alliteration,   shows   the 

poet's  ear.  The  pairing  of  words  of  similar 
sound  betrays  the  training  in  metre  which 
was  Macaulay's  in  his  earlier  days.  "The 
town  [Cork]  is  adorned  by  broad  and  well 
built  streets,  by  fair  gardens,  by  a  Corinth- 
ian portico  which  would  do  honour  to  Pal- 
ladio,  and  by  a  Gothic  College  worthy  to 
stand  in  the  High  street  of  Oxford."     HI, 


269 


161.     Note  the  sonorous  effect  of  the  o's  in 
the  first  syllable  of  many  of  the  words. 

"The  next  .summer  the  soW,  fertilized  by 
/wenty  /Aousand  corpses,  broke  forth  into 
millions  of  poppies.  The  traveler,  who,  on 
the  road  from  Saint  Trou  to  Tirlemoiit,  saw 
that  vast  sheet  of  rich  scarlet  spreading 
from  Lsinden  to  Neerwindeu,  could  hardly 
help  fancying  that  the  figurative  prediction 
of  the  Hebrew  prophet  was  literally  accom- 
plished, that  the  earth  was  disclosing  her 
blood,  and  refusing  to  cover  the  slain."  IV, 
471,  ch.  20. 
5.     Adapting  Sound  to  Sense. 

The  exquisite  commingling  of  sound  and 
sense  is  of  the  very  nature  of  poetry.  It  is  not 
very  often  that  we  notice  a  happy  blending 
of  the  two  in  the  lines  of  the  History.  Wlien 
we  do,  as  in  the  case  where  Macaulay's 
imagination  is  at  play,  we  are  reminded  that 
he  began  as  a  poet,  and  ended  as  an  histo- 
rian. Thus:  "A  new  court,  not  designed 
with  the  purest  taste,  but  stately,  spacious 
and  commodious,  rose  under  the  direction 
of  Wren.  The  wainscots  were  adorned 
with  the  rich  and  delicate  carvings  of  Gib- 
bons. The  sfoireases  zvere  in  a  blaze  with 
the  glaring  frescoes  of  Vcrrio."  III.  61. 
It  is  only  in  narration  and  description  that 

260 


Macaulay's  poetic  fervor,  poetic  imagination 
and  extreme  sensitiveness  to  the  flow  of  lan- 
guage aijpear.  If  the  perfection  of  both 
tiiought  and  form  i^  the  highest  mark  of 
merit  in  hterature,  lAlacaulay  attained  to  it 
hy  virtue  of  the  unbroken  harmony  of  his 
language:  for  every  line  is  "level  to  a  hair's 
breadth."'  because  every  sentence  flows  like 
running  water. 

Our  work  is  done.     Yet  we  cannot  refrain 
from  adding  a  parting  word.     It  is  not  given 
to  many  men  to  attain  to  their  standard  of 
perfection,  whether  it  be  in  literature,  sci- 
ence,  or  any   other   field   of   activity.     The 
highest  eulogy  that  can  be  pronounced  upon 
Macaulay   is   that   he   attained   to   the   high 
standard  towards  which  he  strove.     True  he 
did   not,   in   his    History,   cover   the   period 
which  he  had  allotted  to  himself.     But  that 
part   of   his    task    which    he   did   finish,    is, 
judged  from  the  literary  standpoint,  as  per- 
fect as  a  man  of  genius,  of  the  greatest  skill, 
the  greatest  training,  exercising  the  greatest 
care,  could  make  it.    The  "imaginary  model" 
which  Macaulay  set  up  in  his  essay  on  His- 
tory was,  in  literary  workmanship,  realized 
in   the  publication  of  the   History  of  Eng- 
land from  the  accession  of  James  II.     The 
blemishes  and  inefficiencies  of  the   History 

261 


are  due  to  the  limitation  of  the  faculties  of 
the  historian.  Its  admirahle  ciualities  are 
due  to  the  splendour  of  his  genius.  Now, 
we  have  a  lively  knowledge  of  many  of 
Macaulay's  literary  qualities.  We  have 
studied  him  in  many  moods.  We  have 
scrutinized  many  forms  of  his  writing.  We 
have  attempted  to  thoroughly  master  some, 
if  not  all,  the  artifices  of  his  Rhetoric. 


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